Story Time

Story Time: When A Pants-less Becky Attacks…

This story is a throwback to my freshman year of college. I attended St. Joseph’s University, a conservative Jesuit University, and things got outta hand some time. This is one of them.

Aiight, so boom.

It’s a Friday night, and me and some of my friends are chilling in my dorm. Specifically, I lived in one of the smaller enclosed suites. So, basically, there were about 3 bedrooms (2 students to a room), a common area as soon as you enter the suite, and a shared bathroom in my suite.

Me and some of my friends didn’t feel like going out, so we decided to have a pretty chill night talking, listening to music, and just vibing. We were chilling in the common area. It was like me, my direct roommate, another roommate from my suite and like two of our female friends. The roommate who wasn’t my direct roommate, we’ll call him Sean, did go out that night but came home early. He was pretty drunk, so he was keeping us entertained. Eventually, Sean bid us farewell and decided to take his ass to sleep.

Anyway, we’re still chilling. It’s about 1:30 AM. All of a sudden, we hear some hard knocking on the door. My roommate gets up to open the door and see who’s knocking so goddamn hard. To get into your suite, you had to swipe your key card. However, our door there was also a key lock for our personal bedroom doors.

So, he opens the door, and it’s some Caucasian girl in a mesh shirt with a bra underneath and panties. She diddy bops her ass past my roommate, a 6”2, 200lb Afro-Latino from NYC. Everybody in the room is shocked at her boldness.

So, we’re like, “Hello? Can we help you? The fuck?”. She says some incoherent rambling all while continuing to walk through our suite. At this point, we all realized this girl is beyond blacked out. Our bedroom door is open and I see her way her way headed straight towards my bed. I get my ass up and block her ass. Stranger fucking danger.

Me, my roommate, and my female friends are talking to her tryna get info on how the hell she ended up like the hot ass mess we see before our eyes and how we can help her. From her rambling, we can make out her saying something like, “I just wanna get in my bed”. We’re all trying to calm her down.

Things take a turn for the worse. This motherf*ck’ing girl becomes violent. Scratching and attacking me and my roommate as we’re blocking the doorway. I had enough. We were making it a point not to physically touch her too much since we were stronger than her and didn’t want to harm her/risk the chance of her going to comebody and filing a complaint. My roommate holds her off as I grab my key out the room and slam the door shut, locking it behind. You’d think she’d stop right? Nope. She continues banging and scratching on the bedroom door.

Right now, I’m pissed as hell. First, I have no idea how my roommate just let some rando girl push past him and get inside. Now, we gotta deal with her drunk ass. I am relieved though a this point, because the whole time I was just thinking of how the hell two men of color would explain how she got in our bed, especially when she’s blacked out drunk and won’t remember. Yeah, I had heard the college horror stories and I was not with the shits. Luckily, though, our two friends were there to witness this shit.

So, while Goldilocks is going ham on the door, I tell my roommate to run down the hall outside the suite and grab our floor RA, public safety officers, etc. Homegirl partially snaps back into reality after hearing us talk about grabbing public safety because she says something like, “Get public safety. I don’t care.” Welp, our RA is nowhere to be found, so my roommate goes to the security desk and asks them to call a public safety officer and contact the RA(resident assistant) on duty. The RA on duty happens to be one of my friends from a student org I recently joined. He comes, tries to talk to the girl, to no avail, and says he has to to grab public safety. We’re all thinking, “Ummm, so you just gon’ leave Turnt Tammy here?”

While my RA went to grab, my friends, my roommate, and I continue to try to reason with Blackout Barbie. Apparently, she grows tired of us. Remember Sean? His room in my suite is down the hall on the opposite side of our suite near the second exit. She walks down the hall, opens his unlocked door, locks it and climbs into the same bed he is passed out in. We originally got excited because we thought she gave up and was leaving out the exit.

At this point, I’m scared for my boy. I don’t want him to catch a case and who knows what Hammered Hannah is doing. We’re banging on the door, joggling the doorknob, calling his phone, screaming and tryna wake him up. Not a peep. We give up, sit back down in the common area, and wait for public safety, since they have master keys for our doors. All of a sudden, we hear someone get up and unlock the door.

We head back to the room, thinking Sean woke up and is probably confused as hell as to who Barely-Clothed Becky is and why she’s in his room. We go in, turn the lights on, and both Sean and shawty are knocked the hell out in his bed.

We finally wake Sean up and he is absolutely dazed and confused. We give him the Sparknotes version and let him know we have no idea who Violent Vickey is.

(Side note:We didn’t find this out until way later, but apparently the girl unlocked the door herself. Initially we thought it was Sean. Sean’s bed was in the corner of the room so the side he was sleeping on was next to the wall. He would have had to climb over her, get out of bed, unlock the door and climb back over her and go back to sleep. So, we assume she got tired of us banging on the door and screaming, got up, unlocked it, climbed back in bed, and passed out. He looks over at the girl and taps her to wake her up.)

That’s about when the RA comes in with public safety officers. They get Faded Franchesca out of the bed, asks us all what happened for the report, inquired into why Sean was such a heavy sleeper, and we all part ways and go to bed. Apparently she lived in the apartment on the floor directly above us and someone else had reported seeing her drunk arguing on the phone with someone in the stairwell of our building earlier in the night without pants. In between waking Sean up and public safety arriving, I decided to snap a couple pics as proof for Sean of what happened in case he didn’t remember. Also, because we thought it was funny as hell that this shit happened on our least turnt night, and when we turned the lights on and found she climbed in bed with Sean . Like, sis, it was an entire empty ass open bed right across from her since one of our suitemates transferred after first semester. Well, my ass posted a pic on Instagram before I went to bed with a super long caption explaining what went down. That’s where I fucked up.

When we woke up, my roommate and friends met up for Saturday brunch in the school cafeteria. We recapped the story for the friends who missed out. I check my Instagram and the damn picture has like 100 likes. Bear in mind, it’s 2012, I’m just a freshman on campus, and I’m not even popping like that on Instagram. I left it up for like another hour, because “likes”; then, I deleted it. Later that day, I run into my floor RA and he says he heard about our wild night. He also kinda gives a heads up though that if anything is posted on social media by anyone, they might wanna take it down. Basically, he was looking out for the cookout. I appreciated it, and let him know that if something was posted, it’s gone, hypothetically speaking of course. Haha.

A couple days pass and me and my friends get an email. It’s basically calling us down to our dorm’s residence life office. They told us to stop in and chat about the incident, but like on a one-on-one basis. One of my friends let me know that it was basically because the pic made it’s way to their office. They questioned them if they knew anything about the pic and if they took it.

I was the last one to go. Because I didn’t want my peoples to get in trouble, I just fessed up to it. Apparently some dumbass from another dorm screenshot the IG post before I took it down and showed their roommates. The lady was cool about it, especially since I completely owned up to it, but said that I had to have a meeting with community standards to find out the consequence of the pic. Blah blah. Blah

Here comes Bill Bordack, head of “community standards” aka university disciplinarian. A weird, overweight, Caucasian guy in his late late 30’s who always had a glass coffee mug with him and reminded me of Petter Griffin from Family Guy. He basically made up some shit about the pic being against the schools “respect” code of conduct. There was no specific rule in the university conduct handbook that I broke, so that was as good as he could get.

He tried to intimidate me and exaggerate the picture by making it seem like I posted a nude of another student online, as if Instagram would even allow that, and inflated it with bullying. He said in the meeting that discipline received for University students was on a sliding scale up to expulsion, depending on how great they deemed the offense. Since “expulsion” was a possible result, they said they had to notify my parent. This, after giving us a multiple speeches throughout the semester about how we’re adults in college now and how we’re responsible for ourselves now. He also told me to make sure the pictures were completely off my phone. Anyway, the meeting ended and he said I should receive an email soon letting me know what would happened.

I get an email later on saying with the consequences. I had to make a powerpoint on online bullying that met his standards, And I was on probation for TWO SEMESTERS. Basically, I couldn’t get written up or in trouble for anything or I risked losing my scholarships and expulsion. You know what the drunk ass girl that assaulted us and invaded our private space got? A slap on the wrist and had to take one hour-long class/workshop about the dangers of alcohol. No report to her parents. Nothing. No apology or anything. I even apologized to her in writing during my interview with Bill.

I was livid. I marched my black ass up to the office and demanded answers. He basically said I should be lucky I wasn’t expelled, punishment was “fair”, and that if I didn’t come forward and confess, we all would have gotten in trouble. Bullshit. I can only imagine how they would have flipped the fuck out if my tall big, black, high-top having ass pushed my way into a girl’s suite, attacked them, and climbed into bed with them barely dressed. Granted, I shouldn’t have posted the pic to Instagram. In hindsight, it was a pretty dumb/rude thing to do. But, it doesn’t invalidate homegirl’s actions. Like, c’mon. God forbid she had waltzed into some other guy’s dorm who wasn’t concerned for her and only saw a barely cognizant half-dressed girl. Really?

Welp, I made the dumbass powerpoint twice. He felt the first powerpoint wasn’t good enough. And, I stayed out of trouble for two semesters, which wasn’t hard, because I minded my black ass business on campus and always made sure I wasn’t caught doing my dirt. All it would’ve taken was an underage drinking writeup for some bullshit. To rub salt in the wound, he even suggested I should tell “my story” to all of my fellow orientation leaders as a “what not to do” scenario. Boy, BYE! The nerve!

Welp, that’s my story. Me and my friends still die laughing to this day. Oh and remember those pics I said I deleted off my phone. Well, I didn’t lie. I deleted them off my phone. I did’t say email. 😉 Well, they’re below. I graduated two years ago, so ain’t nobody finna check me now. Check em out below. I blocked out my boy’s face. Fuck Martini Marie, though. *shrugs*

Author: Kobi Elliot

Kobi. 23. College grad. Philly native. Ghanian-American. Creative

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