What happens in EMR and Claudius after curfew?

He Says
By Chris King

The frosty night wind sweeps in with me as I enter the lobby of EMR, causing me to tremble with one final shiver of the evening. I instinctively look up at the large digital clock to my left: 12:26, four minutes before curfew on a Thursday night.

Reaching over, I press the Up button for the elevator and stand back to wait for the button light to turn off. As three other guys come in and wait for the elevator around me, I shove my hands in my pockets, jangling keys and staring intently at the peeling paint on the elevator frame. The elevator comes, we get on, go up and get off at our respective floors.

So I'm walking down my fifth floor residential wing, Men of God, when I glance at my watch, which now reads exactly 12:30. Curfew. Now curfew, you will find, brings out the most activity on a wing on any given day. As I walk down the hall, I encounter a few different groups of people in activity. These groups aren't coordinated or staged; they just naturally fall into place.

There are the Late Returnees, who, like me, have returned to the dorms just before curfew. They have already had a busy night, whether just coming back from work or a movie. Members of this group are always seen at curfew making their way down the hall, poking their heads in and out of various rooms, catching up on events of the evening.

Then there are the Mid-Hall Talkers, who congregate outside the bathroom clothed in just their shorts and white tank tops. The conversation is usually light, jovial and good-natured. These are the guys who want to have relaxing, yet hearty interaction with friends and peers before they wind the night down.

Another group is the Inner Chamber Talkers, closely related to the Mid-Hall Talkers, but this group congregates in a specific room, and the conversation is much more intense. The door is left partially open, signaling that the room and the conversation is available to all, but some degree of quiet and privacy is desired. The conversation in these settings usually ends up revolving around two topics: theology or girls. These guys want to be intellectually stimulated or counseled, taking no mind as to how late the discussions run.

Then there are the Hygienics, also known as the Bathroom Hangers, who prolong their business in the restroom, be it brushing teeth, shaving, showering or using the "facilities." The guys in the shower are always yelling something about soap, the teeth-brushers are always telling you something that you can't understand about "thwew oth the ogro thofo," and facility users are talking on the phone about deodorant. Go figure.

Another group is the Estudiantes, who aren't involved in an activity per se and aren't even together, but collectively are united under the theme of homework. These are the guys who are responsible, studious and frustrated because they've been staring at the same line in their book or assignment for 20 minutes. Unfortunately, they are up against a very difficult time to be responsible, and my admiration goes out to all whose concentration remains firm and their resolve unwavering.

The flurry of curfew activity continues for 30 to 45 minutes before the commotion quiets, the movement slows and the halls begin to empty. Sleep for some is still far off, but the stillness of the early morning takes over and all is well in the halls of EMR.


She Says
By Rachel Martinez

I can see Claudius in the distance, surrounded by the normal gathering of young couples whispering their mournful goodbyes to each other. This serves as a reminder that it's Friday night and I have only seconds before I'm late for curfew. No problem-Strategy 101: Concepts of Surroundings, allows the laws of nature to work in my favor.

I walk from the back of the parking lot to the hill and am abruptly propelled with the force of gravity to EMR. Finding myself slightly out of shape but suddenly an Isaac Newton fan, I open EMR's back doors apparently at the same moment someone opens the front doors. The hollow lobby surges with tremendous energy as an F-V breezes through, pushing me through the lobby, outdoors and around the cafeteria.

At last I sashay myself into Claudius, passing the "last-minuters" (students who like to talk in front of the doors while standing with one foot outside and the other inside). Nevertheless, I ease my way in, concluding it must be some sort of defense mechanism to ward off all of the logistics of when one is technically late-were they in or out? Were they late or were they on time? We'll let the witnesses decide.

On the elevator ride to my room I listen as girls reminisce about the evening. Bowling, movies, ice-skating, coffee shops, Monopoly at a friend's, Mom and Dad down for a visit, street witnessing, banquets, Fun House, fund-raising for mission trips, Wal-Mart shopping sprees, dining out at IHOP. The list never ends. Giggling girls swap stories about their blind dates and entertain their floor for hours with hilarious stories of all the stupid remarks said that evening out of nervousness. Even though they are slightly embarrassed, they remain utterly hopeful of their romantic prospects. Young and restless freshmen redefine the Great Awakening as the alcove explodes with chattering voices, popcorn and Cokes. Yet walls cannot confine the hearts of the youthful, and a sudden burst of energy arises within the mass of talented students to create a dance-Riverdance style.

I continue my promenade down the hall, seeking the gang that decided to lounge around for the evening. Hearing a concert of sniffles, I open a door to discover a room of teary-eyed ladies surrounded by boxes of empty Kleenexes, all of them obvious victims of a chick flick. Quickly exiting the room, I am greeted by the bathroom door, which swings open to reveal a group of five (including my R.A.), all of whose hair has been shockingly dyed a gorgeous deep red. Just wait: Come next Friday they'll be bombshell blonds.

They eagerly convince me to step into their Beauty Parlor. I realize my evening has just begun. I receive a trim, manicure and a chance to totally redefine my wardrobe fashion sense by the "Borrow Or Trade" system, all free of charge.

At last I make my way to my room and fall into bed. To this day I haven't decided which I like better: activities before curfew or activities after curfew. But I know without a doubt that lady ORU students will forever reign in creating the best atmosphere of fun far after curfew.

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