#2: Our night started off with a foam party. at first, i was quite hesitant.. but things turned out to be real fun. soo many guys came up to christine and i, luckily we met these 5 guys from Berkely (terry, john, thomas, duke, patrick) who would then become our knights in shinning armor. everytime some perv guy would come up to dance, either a berkley guy or howard would steal us away. I lost my sandal, and some nasty guy found it and said i owed him something, but then quick thinkin Christine said that my boyfriend wouldnt like it if i repaid him. when the guy asked who my boyfriend was, Thomas put his arm around me, giving the guy his cue to leave...heheee...
#3: At the top of the hall, where the bricks (and paneling) meet the ceiling, there is a small space - just large enough for a Shelbi-shoe to fit through. As you may have already guessed, this was to be the source of Shelbi's bad luck that day. In what I assume was some kind of blind rage, Shelbi tore her shoe off her foot and hurled it the length of the hall. So great was her throwing arm - and so accurate her trajectory - that the shoe rose up until it almost hit the ceiling - and then, to her consternation, actually disappeared into the crack in the ceiling. I do not know what Shelbi's immediate reaction to this unexpected turn of events was. I can say with utter surety that I myself would have been agape. Stunned. Speechless. And before you literally kill yourself laughing, let me add one further detail to the story: Shelbi never got her shoe back! Five years later, as Rod and myself were preparing to leave college, never to return - I was getting married, and Rod had accepted a position with the University of Sioux Falls - we decided on our last night there that we would take a little tour around campus, for old time's sake. We started at one end, and finished at the other, and the SUB came somewhere in the middle. Naturally, of course, since we were reminiscing, Shelbi's shoe was duly recalled, and so, of course, we descended to the basement and made one final attempt to retrieve the shoe. I am sad to say, however, that since we didn't see it go in in the first place (well, I didn't, anyways) that we were somewhat at a loss for where to look. So we never found it. The ultimate fate of Shelbi's shoe will probably remain a mystery for a long, long time.
#4: I feel my sandal slipping off and desperately lunge after it, but it disappears into the shifting sea of feet. Something on the ground slashes my bare foot and I imagine beer-borne pathogens working their way into my bloodstream…As the audience disperses, I limp about in search of the lost sandal. The muddy ground is littered with cups, bottles, discarded shirts, and mateless shoes. I spot a guy holding my sandal aloft; he appears to be searching for his girlfriend's shoe. "That one's mine!" I call. He smiles and hands it over, then returns to scanning the ground. Thank goodness I found it. This is the only pair of shoes I brought, and I don't relish the thought of driving around barefoot in search of new shoes. I hobble to the parking lot for the hour-long wait to exit, soaked to the skin, reeking of beer, sweat, and pot. No more general admission shows. Even an obsessed fan has to draw the line somewhere.