At midnight tonight it is my birthday. Since I count days based on when I wake up in the morning, I am totally oblivious to this fact. Thus, I don’t suspect anything out of the ordinary when three tall and slim guys stand outside my door, behind the RA (student hall leader). The RA says, “You know what time it is?” The boys laugh.
They try to carry me, but I put up quite a fight, kicking the people who hold my legs and trying to grab on to things. Despite my flailing, they do not waver in their task. One student (my roommate) pointedly does not participate, but despite my resistance nobody actually objects. It is just as Zimbardo says — the good guys are key to making it work.
Right before the shower I’m able to break free several times. I crouch into a ball but then think of making a run for it. That is my mistake, since they take the chance to scoop me up again and pull me in. And then they stuff me in the shower and aim the nozzle at me. I get moderately wet but escape quickly. A few of the boys who carried me compliment me. I survive with only a scraped arm and some missing keys (which I find soon enough).
Later, my roommates reminisce. “Man, why didn’t we think to take a picture of that?” one asks. “I did, but I was too busy trying not to get kicked,” the other answers.
Back in my room, I have a sweet birthday email from Mike Godwin (Mike Godwin!) and some cards from family. My immediately family has apparently decided not to bother with presents or thinking of things to say, sending only plain cards with signatures. I go to sleep, wet and presentless.
posted November 08, 2004 02:50 AM (Education) (10 comments) #