It's a little after seven on a Friday night, and you are at your computer, flush with the satisfaction of a job well done. You have just posted an indignant explanation of why an X-wing fighter could never beat the starship Enterprise in battle, winding your scientifically-provable demonstration up with a choice bon mot-- "My God, you peopel are such fucking idiots!! Your werse then Hitler!! You lost the best part of your brians when bantha cum ran down you're mothers legs!! Fuckin cretons. =8-\ --Tommy"
Suddenly, you look up and realize it is already 9pm. Damn, it's the beginning of the semester, before all the schoolwork piles up, and you're ready to party like Richard Feynman! You run into the common room of the suite, but once again, your suitemates have ditched you. Charles probably dragged a protesting Max off to a party, Sam is surely with Jen somewhere, and who knows where Scott disappears to every weekend. Nuts. Well, if you can't be at the party, be the party! Step one: find some girls.
You consider your options... There is that new student play going up, which is a sure-fire way to meet artsy chicks, or you could check out your dorm's study lounge, or there is that Black Student Union dance...