I attended college in New York City at a great school on the Hudson. Very small. Everyone knows everyone at any given semester.

Freshman year, my roommate never showed up and I had a double to myself the whole first semester. Second semester, the school assigned me with an ex-Army soldier who had apparently attended before entering the service, and had returned to finish up. Nice enough guy, but older, kinda cold and woke me up with salsa and reggae music every day at 7 am. So, also kind of a dick.

One night I'm hanging with some friends at a room party, we're all underage, I'm still pretty inexperienced with hard liquor. They made jungle juice in a tub, filled with chopped up fruit. I've got an early photography class and don't want to miss it, so I quietly just grab some of the fruit and eat it like a spiked fruit salad. Apparently a lot of alcohol concentrates in fruit when placed in alcohol.

I get back to my room, stumbling, wondering why I'm so fucked up. Crash on my bed. Few hours on, I wake up, walk down the hall to use the bathroom. Unzip, start peeing. All of a sudden the toilet starts screaming at me, and the bathroom turns into my dorm room; the toilet my ex-Army roommate. He freaks, runs out.

I lay back down in my bed, not really understanding what that was all about.

Few minutes later, knocks at the door. I wake up as if for the first time since leaving the party, have no short term memory of what just happened. It's the resident assistant (very nice, small, polite Filipino girl). She sees me, asks about my roommate. I look, he's not in bed, I go I dunno where he is. She has a weird look on her face, then goes okay. Leaves. I lay back down.

Thirty seconds later my eyes pop open, the memories coming back to me what just happened. Oh shit. I got drunk, blacked out, pissed on an ex soldier. He's gonna fucking kill me.

I hid in, alternately, the laundry room in the basement and the media closet down the hill the rest of the day. Watched Mystic Pizza, the only shitty VHS I could find in the room. Came back, Army angrily cleaning his shit out. I apologize. Understandably won't talk to me. I get reassigned to a room down the hall with some dork from Poughkeepsie who spends 4 days of the week at home and the rest of it completely ignoring my existence. Everyone found out what happened, but with the drinking stories at that school, and a heavy New York Irish and Italian presence, it was mostly shrugged off. Army got a room with the older students down the hill; ignored me the rest of the two years there.

I like to think it was my subconscious finding an opening and getting revenge for all those early morning wakeup calls.