Disclaimer: The irony of this journey is not lost on me, considering that practically every weekend since the beginning of NSOP has concluded at some random EC suite because Columbia’s nightlife is pretty abysmal and, let’s face it, EC is probably our saving grace.
Nonetheless the tale of my upheaval is still very much a tragedy…
It was midterm season and ominous brown patches began to form on our ceiling, but as everybody knows this season means the typical CC student becomes a sleep deprived ‘festive’ walking mess (is this state limited to midterm season? I’m still unsure). Consequently, I considered the weird poop-like marks to be a mere figment of my increasingly limited imagination and went back to sleep since self-care is important. The next day I had awoken from my precious slumber to find the disturbing patches had doubled in size, so we called the oh-so familiar Hartley Hospitality Desk; we call them so much they hate us – that’s a lie the love us, shout out to hospitality! They soon dispatched someone to deal with our shit.
Now just to be clear, no time frame was given as to when the ceiling magician would appear so my roommate went off to class, leaving me the daunting task of conversing with maintenance like the mature adult I am. Unsurprisingly by lunchtime I forgot they were even coming. Mid Sam Smith binge there was a knock on our door, since I’m not completely out of touch with social conventions I answered it and let maintenance prod the ceiling as Smith’s weirdly sexy cover of ‘How will I know’ awkwardly droned on in the background.
After some more prodding and a conversation on a Walkie Talkie, maintenance painted over the ominous brown patches like the magicians they were and went on their way. When my roommate returned she was less than impressed, but then again she is also the designated responsible one in our little domestic arrangement.
A few days later I had awoken to ‘drip drip drip’ before shortly discovering that my roommate’s dissatisfaction with the paint work was valid- the ceiling had begun to cave in and was leaking all over her desk. Immediately we called our friends over at Hartley Hospitality, (how many times can you call someone before they can be considered a friend?) who once again dispatched someone to deal with our lives.
Fast forward through some semi-boring and very awkward encounters with another crew of ceiling magicians, buckets of collected brown water and pretending to understand the plan of action, they began to get to work. As construction began, we had nowhere to hide from the outside world – and that’s when it happened.
It was like a message delivered by the gods…
Except this was on Lionmail and it was from our dear friends at Hospitality informing us we were to move to EC until further notice. Having spent so many Saturday nights there, you can probably imagine how excited I was to only have to crawl down a few floors after a night out, rather than embark on my usual trek across campus. Filled with excitement we immediately packed our bags and headed on over to our new home.
And oh boy did it not disappoint…
At least at first.
Don’t get me wrong, the views are incredible, the spaces are amazing, the vending machines are nifty and having a bath tub is pure bliss. But the novelty of living in EC wore off pretty quickly and I salute all the seniors that put up with the crowded entrance, the rabble of freshman and constant smell of~festivities~on a daily basis.