Creation
Pleasure
Tranquility
East is shaped like a U, with the center of the U being a large public courtyard. In the center of this courtyard has stood a fire pit since time immemorial, or at least since the founding of the college, East being the first building erected on campus. This fire pit is a hollow square made out of cement, with the hole in the center being approximately 6 feet by 6 feet, and the concrete being about a foot thick. The concrete rises 2 feet above the surrounding courtyard.
Historically, this pit was actually used for fires, way back when such things were permitted. In these modern times, of course, there are trees overhanging the area, and the goddamned meddling fire marshal bastards have forbidden the lighting of fires pretty much anywhere around campus, even places like the fire pit that were once designated conflagration areas. At the time our story begins, in the fall of 1995, the pit which once hosted flickering displays of pyrotechnic wonder had fallen into disuse. In fact, it was filled in with rocks and dirt, although it is unclear whether this was done in a dictatorial attempt to halt immolation activities or if it had always been so. History has failed to answer that question for us.
Sometimes during the autumnal season of that memorable year, someone (perhaps me, perhaps someone else - that period of my life is rather hazy) came up with the grandiose and unlikely sounding idea of converting the pit to some sort of hot water storage tank. Perhaps this was a random thought, perhaps it was in order to make real our idealistic visions of California, visions that always contained bikini clad women, and often placed bevys of such bathing beauties in unlikely places such as fast-food restaraunts, car dealerships, and our dorm rooms. Exploring the media sources of those utopian T&A fantasies would take far too long, so we must avoid moving along that potentially fascinating tangent and continue on our previously planned and parameterized path, namely an exposition on Hot Tub History.
The idea was tossed around for a few days, and while Everyone thought it would be great if Someone did it, unsurprisingly enough, Noone did. So I, being seized with even more passion for the notion than most (perhaps because my fantasies were particularly vivid and haunting), took it upon myself to get the job done. I purchased a large blue tarp, of the kind sold at home improvement stores. I took some plywood that I had lying around, and cut it to make a flat bottom. Then, taking advantage of my finely developed skills in motivation, the hordes of bored people around looking for something to do, and the general willingness of people to help out with simple repetitive tasks (like digging and computer science), I gathered a mob to dig out the fire pit. It turned out that the dirt was merely filling in the cracks between large rocks, so we were mostly pulling out rocks.
Naturally, the question of how to deal with the rocks was raised. Some creative soul (perhaps me, again I don't remember) suggested that we make a Zen-type rock garden in one of the large dirt areas near the fire pit. This seemed like a fine idea, so we formed a bucket-brigade type line to ferry rocks out of the pit and towards the proposed garden. People dug and carried and lifted and moved, and thanks to the power of our numbers, the work went quickly. I was helping out too, not with brute physical labour like some slobbering brute (not that I have anything against brutes, we couldn't have done done it without them of course), but in the design and structure of the rock garden. I layed out the paths, and directed our kind and helpful laborers to fill in the other areas with rocks.
After a couple of hours of mindless backbreaking labour done by people who weren't me, we were finished. We had removed 6 feet by 6 feet by 2 feet of rocks and dirt from the pit. I then lined the bottom with plywood, we put in the tarp, and using two hoses screwed together (lucky hoses!), we piped in hot water from our laundry room, which gets it straight from the boiler. The monumental project was completed, and it was time to move on to my favorite stage - Enjoyment.
One notable occasion around the hot tub happened late during the inaugaral semester of the tub. I decided to hold a wine, cheese, and fruit party, again in an attempt to realize my romantic visions of California. The event was a smashing success, with 40 or 50 people coming by to drink wine and eat cheese, crackers, strawberries, grapes, and chocolate. Although such refreshments are not always served, someone (usually me) always makes strawberry, rasberry, and similar delicious daiquiries, either broken (non-alcoholic) or fixed (with rum). Personally I like them fixed, and while I used to make broken ones as well, I now prefer not to set my noble hands to such ungodly work, letting the heathens that prefer their pleasures adulterated prepare their drinks themselves.
Another hot-tub related incident occured as a prank. The members of another dorm filled the entire hot tub with ramen noodles. It was pretty nasty.
Following are some pictures to illustrate our history.