Someone did a poo outside my door in Ramsay

Arriving back at uni for 2016, I thought I’d take a proper look back on my 2015: I started uni, moved into halls… and someone decided to take a dump outside my hall door. Picture the scene: it’s 1:30am on Thursday, the first day of October and I’m in a state of complete sobriety as I return to my room in Ramsay Hall. I’d been at a soirée in a room a few floors below and was fantasising over my warm duvet and the inevitable lullaby of police sirens and drunken arguments from the street below.

However my night took a turn for the worse as I opened the door to the 5th floor corridor of New York. Immediately, a disturbingly fruity scent assaulted my nostrils as I gagged and immediately slammed the door shut. On the second attempt I noticed a brown puddle outside one of the doors, and next to it sat a somewhat inebriated hall-mate, pants around his ankles rocking back and forth on the floor .

It maybe zoomed but I wasn’t going to get any closer

Slightly confused, I ran down to two floors below to fetch my completely hammered friend James to come upstairs and help me. However, James’ contribution solely consisted of curling over and laughing, the immortal words “I’m so glad this has happened to you, this is too funny,” is something he still stands by to this day. Helpful.

Braving the smell, I reentered my corridor, but quickly backed off when I was charged at by the culprit with his trousers around his ankles and shit covering his hands. I slammed the door shut again as he claimed his second casualty of the night, banging away at another room on my floor – waking up the girls inside and leaving poo-ey fingerprints all over the door.

He eventually dissipated into the artificially-lighted haze like the Ripper in the Victorian fog as I now had to approach the night warden about cleaning up the faeces that was gradually seeping under the door and into my room. I can’t imagine the Warden took much solace in  cleaning up excrement, but luckily I found solace in the Ramsay Lounge with another resident who’d had the equally traumatic experience of pinched hummus.

To pass the time I told of my night’s tale to the crowd congregating  around a pile of sick and sent off numerous messages to friends hoping someone was up for acting therapist for me. Unfortunately the extent of sympathy I received consisted of a “welcome to uni”, numerous poo emojis and a tonne of “WHAT THE FUCK”’s.

My friends are so sympathetic

That night I didn’t sleep at all and had to rewash all my clean clothes as they had all picked up a slight aroma of shit – it took several laundry bags and most of Friday to clean all my clothes.

Smeared all over my floor

To make matters worse, some had gone under the door, meaning that every time I opened it, all I did was smear poo over and into the carpet inside my room. It took another two requests to the reception before the offending substance was finally expunged from my room, and I once again could sleep in a poo-free environment.

When I undoubtedly look back on Freshers in years to come, nostalgic reminiscences of youth will not be the first thing that comes to mind, but rather the smell of shit and the words, “welcome to uni”.

Realistically, I think it’s more “welcome to Ramsay.”