Res

My allocated Res was Cullen Bowles, the awkwardly named and more awkwardly built residence on the top of the hill: at the highest point of the university; its roofs spiked with lightening conductors. The inmates called it “Legoland”. It was a thoroughly unappetizing sight; more Orwellian “1984” than Oxbridge “Brideshead Revisited”. The entire edifice was a series of piled-up, interconnected blocks: like a lop-sided jenga game. A crushing sense of woeful uncool radiated from this cubist faced slab. My heart sank when I saw my room: a modular interior that looked like it’d been designed to be hosed down, not swept. I stared at the wall-mounted bed and brutal face brick and nearly wept as I realized I’d be living there for the next two years. I ushered my parents off to their hotel, and went in search of disoriented and curious others- and beer.