Word: fm
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...Tillery and who is now sporting a flashy pink scarf that frames her impressive cleavage, stopped by the room on her way to a College Democrats party. But now, as the crowd of unfamiliars pours in, Tillery and his crew—two females, one male and two hounding FM staffers—dip out. The first-years turn their sights to the main event of the night—in their words, getting their dance on. To do that, they decide, they need to get to the Quad, where the party of choice is in Cabot. Having made...
...scored them all? Amazing!” exclaims Vicky L. Sprow ’06 to the party on the other end of the cell phone line as she ambles from Pennypacker Hall to the Yard. FM wonders whether Sprow, who is planning her Saturday night via the Sprint PCS network, is referring to women or drugs. As it turns out, Sprow’s contact and social pusher-man is (purportedly) bragging about soccer goals. Margolskee informs Sprow that Mather Third Floor is The Place To Be, a prospect that Sprow immediately relays to her cohorts, Caroline...
...pressing engagement with their hockey elders and a handle of Bacardi. Exiting the cozy confines of the Yard at 9 p.m., the girls set out for the DeWolfe room of two sophomore hockey players. There’s only one glitch: Where, exactly, is DeWolfe Street? Seasoned FM staffers point the neophytes in the appropriate direction...
...asks the posse, “Juice? Soda? Daiquiris?” Hesitant to choose door number three—either out of respect for their athletic regimen or fear of the omnipresent eye of FM—the girls glance nervously at one another. FM selflessly volunteers to sample the goods, thereby putting the newbies at ease. A daiquiri or five later, the first-years are embroiled in a hot debate over final clubs and Anna Kournikova, while the rum-sodden reporters have regressed to playing X-rated Hangman in their notebooks...
...While Seyfarth and Hamden splinter off to investigate the Pfoho option, Sprow heads to Quincy for more “pre-gaming,” as she calls it. FM wonders when the freakin’ game starts. She is joined by Merritt R. Baer ’06, who is a born Saturday night leader. “I follow the smell of alcohol over the sound of music,” she explains. The Quincy scene at 10:30 is mellow at best, despite the incessant and spurned invitations from the classy hockey jocks of room...