The February doldrums are behind us and spring break is in full swing, which can only mean one thing… yes, ladies and gents, it’s that time of year again. It’s time for the notorious housing lottery, when the goons at ResLife will use their fickle fingers to toy with the emotions of volatile freshmen, when rising seniors long for a Mod to call home and sophomores watch the excitement from the comfort of their 8-mans (or from CoRo), reminiscing on a time when they, too, were at the mercy of the housing gods.
This is a very tricky time of year, and for those of us who are far beyond housing anxieties, we can forget just how scary it can be to fight the lottery for the first time. So, to assuage some concerns, I present the Class of 2016 with a guide to the Five People You Meet in the Housing Lottery—a few characters who’ll be crawling out of the BC woodwork in the next few weeks.
The Lucky Jerk
WOO-HOO! Did you just hear that? It’s the sound of the luckiest bros on campus, rejoicing at their 5 PM 8-man pick time. Yes, this obnoxious creature got an 8-man and you didn’t, even though his bad behavior has him flirting with all kinds of probation. You’d like to think the system operates with some kind of karma and that good housing happens to good people, but sometimes the housing gods throw you for a loop and let unrepentantly horrible people get to live in the nice 8-mans with the big windows. Anyway, the nightmare is over for this dude. Anyone up for some frisbee on the Chevy lawn?
The Brokenhearted
You’ll spot this poor thing trying not to weep openly in the Eagle’s Nest when she finds out she didn’t get her 8-man. Aw, she just looks so sad. Can someone go get her a tissue? Aw, come on sweetheart, there’s still a chance you’ll live on Lower, please don’t cry—it’s no use. No 8-man is the end of this world for this teary-eyed young lady, who knows that her housing for next year will involve the un-air-conditioned halls of Walsh, bunk beds, or communal bathrooms. When she runs into the lucky jerks on her way back to her forced triple, all her wounds will reopen; she’ll start crying, consider transferring and curse the very day she was born.
The Optimist
You know what, guys? Everything’s gonna be totally cool. We didn’t want an 8-man anyway!Such is the battle cry of the housing lottery Optimist, armed with positive phrases to keep his group looking on the bright side. Walsh won’t be so bad, guys, we’ll be right next to the Mods! Plus the security guards—that’s prestige. As the days roll on, the Optimist becomes tireless, pulling trifles out of thin air to put smiles on his future roomies’ faces. And hey, if we live on CoRo, we’re right next to the Chocolate Bar! How’s that for prime real estate? Plus, freshman girls! By the end of the week, friends will grow tired of the Optimist, wondering why they chose to live with this jibronee in the first place.
The Wizard
No 8-man? No 4-man? No problem. This kid has it all under control. She’s been putting together the optimal combinations for sixes and nines since the group got together, and the night before the third day of the lottery is her time to shine. Truly the Wizard works in mysterious ways to ensure the best possible six- or nine-woman suite. How did she manage to convince the inseparable duo to not be directs and split into separate rooms? How did she find an incredibly compatible ninth roommate to join the group? Only one possible explanation—the housing lottery Wizard has the magic in her.
The Doomed
You poor, poor creature. Three long, tedious days, all ending in dismay with no pick time, watching the other freshman joyously post their future room numbers on Facebook. He’s just had enough. He’s accepted his fate, but he’s not happy about it—and if he hears another word out of the Optimist about how they could maybe write funny stuff on their whiteboard for everyone to see, he’s gonna lose his mind. He can already taste the shame of eating at Mac every night and failing to woo the ladies into coming back to his triple in Roncalli. At most, this sad little slob can count his blessings and be glad that at least he won’t be living in Greycliff.
Kate Lewis 