Fast Times at McGill High (Numero Dos)
…DARY! For those just tuning in, this is the second part in an extensive two-part series on my beloved home at Vandy: McGill. Catch the first part here.
The most stereotypically McGill-esque events have been the three coffeehouses/open mic nights this semester. During these marathons of outlets of unrestrained creative expression that last from 7 pm to well past midnight, the real McGill comes out. For sure there are your traditional (and always amazing) spoken word, piano, singing, guitar, etc. acts. However, they literally allow performers do whatever they want so long as it doesn’t pass a subjective, ever-shifting barometer of offensiveness. For example, someone read quite graphic erotica and was greeted with uproarious laughter and much approval. However, the person who reenacted Monty Python’s satirically hilarious but racial slur-filled “Never Be Rude to an Arab” was forced to apologize. Another act by the same performer was a social experiment where he sat on stage motionless in a horse mask as an infinite loop of horse noises played in the background. The goal was to see how long he could last before being forcibly removed from the stage; two stronger McGillites finally carried the performer’s stool with horse-man in tow off-stage after eight minutes and twenty-two seconds. Another group performed an arousing, beautiful ballet wearing nothing but extremely-revealing speedos.
My roommate and I had our own fair share of ridiculous acts. At the first event, we dressed up as sperm and sang Monty Python’s “Every Sperm is Sacred”, which satirized the Catholic Church’s aversion to birth control. At the third event, we placed a mattress on stage, tore off our clothes down to our boxers, dimmed the lights, and then reenacted several positions from the “Cuddle Sutra”. All the while, our good friend narrated the poses in a deep, sensual voice whilst George Michaels’s sexy sax intro from “Careless Whispers” played on repeat. The second was the edgiest and entailed the most planning. We decided to reenact Monty Python’s catchy and irreverent “Always Looks on the Bright Side of Life”. We had connections to those who built the VUT stages. Thus, in one of the more surreal moments of life, my roommate and I went to them and got fitted for our very own crosses. On the big night, we wore nothing but loin cloths and were duct-taped to our 8’ x 6’ crucifixes. Fortunately, many of our friends helped us hobble our way to the stage for our grand debut. In any other place, we would have been booed off-stage. But we were fully accepted. Even my most religious friends who live either in or outside of McGill endorsed our piece. ‘Twas a magical night.
Another amazing annual McGill event is Secret Satan. Yes, you read that right. The idea is simple: Secret Santa but with a suggested mean-spirited twist. Gifts tend to be quite raunchy, ranging from phalluses to paddles. Each present is to be accompanied by an explanatory poem/haiku. There are two hilarious stories thanks to this event that made my pre-finals week by far my favorite at McGill this entire semester. The first entails my present for my “victim”. I decided to get her a potpourri of various inside jokes. One of these pertained to ladybugs, so naturally I bought 1500 of them for $4. When they arrived, my roommate and I in our infinite wisdom decide to transfer them into another container INDOORS. That is when all hell broke loose. Hundreds escaped into the hallway. They covered the walls, ceiling, and floor. The usually calm and collect RA was freaking out, proclaiming that her training never prepared her for this. I started frantically sweeping them out the door whilst my roommate went to town with a vacuum cleaner. (Note: the vacuumed ladybugs survived their wild ride and were released outdoors.) We saved the day and prevented an outbreak. Although people from all over the building noted finding isolated ladybugs in their rooms, we’re confident that there are not enough left to cause an apocalypse. It’ll be interesting to see what McGill will be like upon returning from our three week winter break. (Side note: I actually found a ladybug in my suitcase when I unpacked it down here in Florida!)
The other story entails the present that one of muh main gurls gave my roommate, Tristan. She is a genius and came up with the idea to take semi-nude pictures of me and give them to him. In one of the more memorable nights of life, she borrowed our friend’s $600 camera, enlisted the help of a guy who had seen every episode of “America’s Next Top Model”, and followed me to a bunch of locales around McGill. I probably shouldn’t post the pictures here (even I have some sort of filter), but I’ll just say that they got quite risqué. At the PG side of the photo-shoot, I seductively sponged Tristan’s motorcycle whilst in my boxers. At the other end of the spectrum, I got completely naked while she and her modeling assistant wrapped me in Christmas lights. I wasn’t even that close to either of them before that night, and we were all 110% sober. The fact that everyone involved was so open to nudity speaks volumes to the open-mindedness that pervades the atmosphere at McGill. The best part was that Secret Satan concluded with a slideshow of all 50+ pictures from the shoot in front of the dozens of McGillites. I’ll never forget that night.
I hope these brief memoirs have given you a taste of this unique dorm and elucidates why I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Also, keep in mind that not all of McGill is represented by these crazy, sometimes raunchy, stories. The McGill crowd is as diverse as they come; as long as you have an open mind, you’re always welcome. Thanks for reading. Sayonara!