I am officially done being a hall senior. Never again will I have to stop a drunk fresher from choking on their own vomit, or wake up at 9am to make toast, or collect money from cash-strapped freshers.
As for a performance review, the guys on my floor decided that this would be best done through the medium of the Internet:
“Frank is the worst hall senior ever,” said Charlottle. Everyone solemnly agreed.
Naturally, I bought the mug. I guess my only consolation is knowing that James’ spelling mistake will be preserved in mug form forever.
So, was I the worst hall senior ever? Let’s look at the facts:
We were asked not to sleep with any of the freshers during the first two weeks. I managed five days.
During the winter, everyone in the building was revising hard for their exams and planning trips home. Meanwhile, the guys on my floor had a snowball fight. In the kitchen.
The kitchen was quite possibly one of the messiest places on Earth. We had an onion growing in the cupboard.
Every week there was an Ice-Cream night, a Ruin-Glee-For-Michael night and a Porn night. You can judge for yourself whether this goes in the pros or the cons.
I did organize a rather successful Secret Santa, which seemed to be enjoyed by all. The gifts included a trident and a robotic hand with a purpose too hideous to contemplate.
Large quantities of pasta were put under my door, whilst everyone ran around singing “Frank, Frank the Pasta King”.
We watched A Serbian Film. Enough said.
Hmmm…maybe I was the worst hall senior ever, perhaps this was all my influence?
Then again, I might be looking too far into this, I tend to complain a lot, its nothing serious and I doubt that anyone would make a big deal out of it.
“Frank’s life is such a vale of tears” said Charlottle. Everyone solemnly agreed.
Wait a second…it’s spelled ‘Charlottle’ here too. He wouldn’t spell it wrong twice, that’s not like James…Oh crap. I’ve been calling her Charlotte all year long…
I am the worst hall senior ever.