When I was still at my previous college, I was in my dorm room one Saturday night with one of my roommates and a couple people we knew. They were drinking (all under 21), but I was not (I didn't drink then).
It was sometime after midnight when the group left the room. They were a little loud in the hall, and a passing RA asked us to keep it down. After walking the others out, my roommate came back in.
Now, this is a basic dorm room: big rectangle, with the beds along one wall and the other furniture along the other, so the middle was as open as possible.
So, my roommate sits on a box that was being used as a chair that evening, next to the box that had been their table, with the empty shot glasses, salt shaker and lime peels. Where he is sitting is important later. He is completely and obviously wasted.
So, a couple minutes later, there is a knock on our door. When I open it, there is a female police officer standing there, having been called by the RA.
She glances into my room, and asks me, "There has been a report of drinking on this floor. Do you know anything about it?"
So I turn to my roommate and ask, "Duke, any drinking in here tonight?"
He looks up with a smile, as sober as he could possibly look (especially after several shots of tequila and Lord knows what else), and says, "Nope, no drinking in here."
I turn back to the officer, who by the look on her face believes we are both full of shit, but because of where my roommate was sitting, he is blocking any evidence from view. So, she turns and walks away.
Hell of a night, and part of why I remained sober in college
