I go in to take a shower on Saturday morning and I find pineapple chunks on the floor.
There is also a pool of water with some oatmeal floating around, along with ketchup and mustard and who knows what else sprayed on the walls. They are the remains of initiation on Friday, where all of the new Eliza Ritchians were forced to: watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in the dark with the volume full blast for two hours, then do an elephant walk blindfolded through the dark. Then there were two stations where we were given the choice of ingesting an unknown substance or dumping it over our head. The first station was a glass of Grapefruit juice mixed with Tabasco sauce; the second was some strange concoction of canned olives, cottage cheese, canned pineapple, oatmeal, and of course, Tabasco sauce. How do I know this? Because I chose ingest at both stations. It was extremely revolting for a few seconds but it turned out to be the better choice. Returning to the story, they made us elephant walk up the stairs and outside, while still blindfolded. They hung wet ribbons from the stairs and told us that if we kept our heads too high we’d hit something really gross. To make matters worse, the leader of our elephant walk train had been drinking while we were waiting, and by the time we finally got to go, she was super drunk. To end it all off, we were pelted with ketchup and mustard and told to demonstrate our Frosh names for the RAs. Frosh names are things they assigned to us on the first day at Eliza. Each freshman has one, and when called upon they may, by their own choice, do an embarrassing action in public. Some names were Dog In Heat Frosh, Air Guitar Frosh, Temper Tantrum Frosh, etc. I was Airplane Frosh. I was supposed to run around with my arms out, making airplane noises, but when I was called, with all that Tabasco sauce gushing around in my stomach, I didn’t think excessive movement was a good idea. So, I turned around, yelled “Oh no, a terrorist!” and ran right into the side of the building. (In retrospect, this isn’t exactly a good joke to tell on the eve of 9/11)
After all that torture, everyone made a mad dash for the showers, but the jokes weren’t done. The RA’s had smeared the handles to the bathrooms with Vaseline, and while people were using the showers they went around and flicked the lights on and off. However, since I had wisely chosen to eat instead of wear, I could got to sleep and take a shower in the morning. With pineapple chunks on the floor.
The Frosh become freshman. To be honest, it was actually much more amusing than it was painful. I now understand why ninth graders put up with having peanut butter smeared on their faces or participating in drag shows. It’s solidarity, not indignity.
The pineapple chunks have disappeared. But the ketchup smears on the hallways remain.