Even though I graduated a year and half ago, I live closer to campus now than I ever did as a student. Sure, it gets kind of annoying when the entire downtown revolves around the campus, but that's not always a bad thing, especially when the weather starts getting nice and there are more and more shirtless guys playing frisbee and going for runs and all sorts of physical exhertion without a shirt. There's a lot of eye candy usually visible from my window. There's that, and also I really like living two blocks away from work.
Except for three houses down. The ugly frat house is right there, and the ones you'd want to be shirtless are never shirtless and the ones who shouldn't be, are. They're always covering up the sidewalk with their stupid cornholing game (and no, not the fun kind of cornholing) so I have to walk on the grass to bypass them. There's always at least one pile of vomit-like substances in the hedges or on their driveway that I have to sidestep to avoid. They're not one of the loser frats, they're just one of the dirtier, annoying frats.
Or at least they were, because last night, after after-rehearsal drinks, I could hear the sirens and see the flashing lights, growing stronger as I got closer to my building.
The motherfuckers are on fire. Or at least the frat house is (everyone survived). Normally I would feel bad, but it's the annoying frat, and it means that I'll be able to walk to work without them covering up the sidewalks. If they were the cute frat boys, I might feel bad that their house burnt to the ground in the middle of finals. But it's not them, so instead it's just schadenfreude.
Plus, now my apartment kind of smells like campfire, which is nice.
