Facing the fear of female dorms
Joe Muto
Livin' on a Prayer
Dishes in the hallway, in the scheme of things, are not a huge deal. In my dorm, they would pass without comment. In fact, on a daily basis, the hall outside my room is littered with various articles of clothing, pieces of athletic equipment, drug paraphernalia and the occasional animal carcass.
But I live in a guy's dorm. A girl's dorm is a different story.
Such was the case with my friends in an unnamed women's dorm. They were confronted in an intervention-style meeting by the entire hall staff, who then proceeded to tell them they were "obstinate." More 19th Century-style adjectives followed, most of which had not been used since the writing of the book "The Secret Garden."
Antiquated insults are sadly the least of the problems of a resident of a female dorm. Those of you still with me at this point will recognize that I'm turning my attention to a previously ignored yet well deserving topic: the terror that is "The Female Dorm".
Before college, I'd always just assumed that the worst things a woman would have to deal with in her residence hall would be pillow fights, panty raids and the like.
But no. Not at Notre Dame. Our women are too good for these harmless yet endlessly videotape-able traumas. Instead, Notre Dame women are subjected to verbal intimidation, contempt and numerous violations of personal privacy. And that's just from the Detex card.
My lady friends seem unable to convey to me the indignity of living under 24-hour lock and key, having an honest-to-God nun watching over them, and being hassled in their own 24-hour space by an overactive, blue shirt-clad lunatic.
But in my opinion, none of these things can top the fear that grips the common Notre Dame man when he decides to visit the Capri pant and tank-top strewn bowels of a girl's dorm.
Don't get me wrong — during the day, most female dorms at Notre Dame are almost visitable. However, as parietals approach, and the hall staff prepares the castration shears, a girl's dorm changes significantly.
In all honesty, I would rather walk into an al-Qaeda cave blindfolded and waving an American flag with my pants around my ankles and a George W. Bush sock puppet covering my bare genitals than walk into a female dorm within two hours of parietals. Even with the most innocuous of intentions, a male visitor is stared down as if he is planning to rape all of the residents before stealing the painting of the dorm benefactors.
Let me convey this fun little anecdote to illustrate: One night, I visited some friends in a women's dorm. I heard the jingly keys at 11:50 p.m. and started getting ready to leave. Less than 10 minutes later, I stepped out of the elevator onto the first floor, only to be confronted by the sight of the security guard and about five RAs chatting amiably by the front desk. As I stepped off the elevator, they froze and turned their gaze to me.
My initial reaction was to panic, but a quick glance at the official dorm clock told me that it was literally midnight and 20 seconds. I headed past the gathering, confident in my righteousness. As I attempted to walk out the front door, I heard a voice behind me.
"Hey." One of the RA's had stepped forward to challenge me. "Be more careful next time. You're a couple of." She paused to look at the clock.
"Seconds late." She wasn't even able to say "minutes" with a straight face.
Lest any naysayers out there accuse me of unconstructive criticism, I thought I'd provide female hall staff members with some friendly advice.
Security guards: First of all, coming into the 24-hour lounge every five minutes admonishing occupants to "keep at least one foot on the ground at all times" not only makes you sound like an idiot, it's counterproductive. You're just forcing would-be nookie seekers to be more creative in their positioning and faster to finish.
RAs: Just because everyone says that women RAs are embittered shut-ins doesn't mean you have to prove it on a daily basis. Live a little, and for God's sake, lighten up.
Rectresses: Not every guy who walks into your dorm is ready to pluck one of the virgin roses placed under your care. Some of us are there to pick up books or something. Also, it greatly diminishes your nunly authority when you refuse to wear the full habit.
And one final note to all hall staff: it's parietals, not a nuclear missile launch. Precision is not a necessity. Next time I get yelled at for leaving 30 seconds after midnight, I can't be responsible for my own actions.
Joe Muto is a sophomore FTT and English major who would like to congratulate the male dorm residents who stole the Farley pink gorilla and took the Holy Cross girl photos, respectively. Contact Joe Muto a jmuto@nd.edu.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Monday, February 4, 2002
