In the words of freshman Izzy Meyers: “Madonna … you don’t even know.”
For many years, the deteriorating freshman residence hall, Madonna, has survived solely due to the sustaining power of its legacy.
The camaraderie forged through the insanity of living in Madonna is what gives the rapidly-declining building lifeblood. The pranks of each freshman class give the dorm just enough sustenance to last until the next year.
There are numerous inane traditions (thanks to the raging hormones of 80 boys): from jumping off the bridge for a swim in the filthy pond to ripping down the shower curtains in the bathrooms to tossing items of unusual size from the roof.
Perhaps since things have not been chaotic enough this first month — Buttering the ceilings and windows? Stealing a fire hydrant to hang it from the lounge ceiling? Dumping sand in the urinals? Seriously? — Madonna Hall decided to take matters into her own hands.
In the middle of the boiling Texas heat and suffocating humidity, the air conditioning units gave up.
Expectedly, hordes of Madonna boys flooded a nearby hotel, bringing with them a succession of parties, volumes of noise, and copious testosterone.
Undoubtedly feeling underappreciated, the AC decided to teach the entitled residence a lesson in gratitude. This backfired, as the boys’ standards of living quarters were raised to new levels that Madonna refuses to meet.
This dawned on ’Donna, who realized that broken AC units were insufficient revenge for all she has endured through the years. Soon after, three unlucky residents found themselves forced to vacate their triple due to an aggressive case of mold on their carpet.
At this point you’re probably asking, as any reasonably independent thinking person would, “Sorry, but why exactly is Madonna the most highly requested dorm among the freshmen ‘men’?”
Simply put, the dorm has a spirit of her own, and the boys feed off that spirit. As Meyers said, “it’s like a dumpster fire that has gotten so big it feeds off itself.”
That spirit. That dumpster fire. They are what bind the boys together. The inferior quality of the dorms and the surpassingly inferior quality of the pranks are what ties generations of classes together in a sort of brotherhood — a brotherhood forged not by blood, but from the dripping ink of countless write ups.
If you are deeply part of UD, you know Madonna is as iconic as the bell tower or Groundhog or Miss Patty. At best, the dorm provides a breathing space for the freshmen to grow from boys into men. At its worst, it’s a handy conversational piece to pull out of your pocket when the intellectual discussions just aren’t cutting it.