The 9th floor of Stephenson North (Pt. 1)

Washington State University wasn't my first choice, but I made my bed and I decided to lay in it for the next four years.

Not literally though. I wasn't in a coma or anything. You know what I mean.

I rolled into Pullman on the back of a dust storm. I thought I'd gone back in time to the Great Depression. The highway was littered with tumbleweeds along the way, which I had previously thought were a fictional thing only found in old Westerns.

My exact destination was the Stephenson Complex - a huge dorm consisting of three towers interconnected by a main lobby building. The towers are all appropriately named Stephenson North, Stephenson East, and Stephenson South. I'll let you guess how they came up with the names.

The whereabouts of Stephenson West remain unknown, but I always bought into the theory that the tower had been stolen by the neighboring University of Idaho. They are aptly named the Vandals, after all.

Stephenson North was my dorm tower (excuse me..."residence hall." Word of advice: never call them dorms in front of someone who works in a dorm. They prefer "residence hall." Well I prefer "His Most Gracious Lord, Protector of the Realm, Defender of the Innocent, Our Moral Compass, Our Shining Beacon of Hope, First of His Name, Dylan Hoff," but we don't always get to pick how we're referred to).

Stephenson North was the ghetto of WSU dorms. It was cheap, old, and breaking down. Students were crammed in to fit as many as possible.

Every room had tile floors, some of which began to break and crack as the school year dragged on.

I remember one guy who found the desk in his room covered in some sort of sticky black substance that was crusted onto the surface. It took four of us almost three hours of scraping and scrubbing to remove enough of it to make the desk usable.

There were two elevators to help reach each of the 12 floors, and they broke down constantly. That might have been due to the high speeds those old elevators traveled at. If you didn't grab hold of something, you were liable to float into the air if riding the elevators down or have your body compressed when riding up.The only thing more annoying than those elevators breaking were the douchebags who would ride them up-and-down when they only lived on the first three floors.

All these flaws were only enhanced by the fact the other two Stephenson towers were just renovated the year before, while Stephenson North was left untouched (until after I moved out, apparently). But at least we had faster elevators (when they worked).

I lived on the 9th floor with 26 other dudes (each floor in the Stephenson towers is gender-specific).

I mean, we didn't all live together in one room. There were 13 rooms per floor with two people per room.

My roommate was a ginger giant who played rugby. He could have ripped my arms out of my sockets if he wanted to, and I ain't no droid either (he was about the same size as Chewbacca, come to think of it). He moved into a different room by February, which left me to a room all to myself for most of second semester (which would become a recurring theme for me).

While my roommate and I pretty much kept to ourselves, about half the 9th floor was solidified into a single group of friends within a few short weeks. And they were quite the cast of characters.

There was Karl, the World of Warcraft geek. Incredibly good at giving bear hugs despite his small size. He'd just sort of hold on as you thrashed about trying to escape. I don't know where the upper body strength came from. I guess he not only leveled up in the game, but in real life too.

Hayden was the resident slacker of the group. A modern John "Bluto" Blutarsky in the making. He and August were the two biggest potheads I've ever had the pleasure to know. Which is saying something considering A) I come from San Francisco and B) the rest of the guys I'm about to mention.

Steven was by far the biggest oddball of the gang (which is also saying something). He would have fit in perfectly with the hippie generation. A devoted Beatles fan, prone to breaking out into song or playing guitar, liked to ask random hypothetical questions (that would range from deep questions on the meaning of life to crude "would you rather this or that?" questions), and an absolutely bizarre sense of humor.

In contrast to the ethereal Steven was his earthy roommate. Jon was the local boy of the group, a farmer from some podunk town in Eastern Washington. When he wasn't reminiscing about small town living, he enjoyed getting into political debates with his roommate, Steven, and myself. I tended to let him win because I'm fairly sure he was strong enough to bench press me, despite being only half my height.

There was the duo of Dan and Dan (sometimes referred to as White Dan and Mexi-Dan to differentiate; for reasons that should be obvious). Mexi-Dan was a huge Metallica fan, and often looked the part. He, along with Steven and White Dan, became an almost inseparable trio.

While Mexi-Dan had his guitar and music, White Dan treasured his Xbox 360. He was a diehard gamer, particularly fond of Halo. Many a hour was spent playing Xbox 360 or PS3 between us all, and we all lived in fear of White Dan's skills. And his temper. Dude loved to swear and shout while playing games. And such creative cursing too. I've never heard curse combinations quite like the ones White Dan came up with. The guy had a real talent for it.

His soft-spoken roommate, Colton, was his most common target. An extremely odd pairing, but one that worked out beautifully - they became the best of friends.

Jaimeson was the most sophisticated member of the gang (dude owned a freaking smoking pipe! How posh is that?). He was arguably the most picked upon member too, because of his somewhat haughty attitude. His room was next to mine. I can still remember the time five of the other guys sneaked into the walk-in closet in his room and hid in there just as he was preparing to go to sleep. I was doing the same in my room and heard all the commotion through the wall as he eventually discovered them and chased them from his room.

Alex was the closest thing we had to a leader, and probably the "coolest" one of us. Armed with a rapier wit and confident attitude, his room (which he shared with Karl - another odd pairing that somehow worked) quickly became a go-to meeting place for simple hangout sessions or the beginning to a night's shenanigans.

Billy, Tyler, Matt, Connor, Ryan 1 and Ryan 2, Mike, Nick ... they were all part of the 9th floor crew (even though some of them didn't live on the 9th floor. They became unofficial members). I'm probably forgetting a couple because I've got the memory of a goldfish when it comes to names, but the moments we shared together still remain as some of the highlights of my time at WSU and are strong in my mind.

It was an oddball group - one that kept things loose and fun. And a little bit...mischievous, shall we say. The 9th floor soon earned a reputation within Stephenson North.

But this blog post has run long enough. The deeds that earned said reputation will have to wait until another time. Provided none of them read this between now and then, and warn me I've already said too much.