Today's story comes from Coug79. If you'd like to participate in this series, you can find more information here or email me here.
Five of us were living together on Spaulding street in a really cool old house we had affectionately nicknamed the "Mars Hotel." One winter night Pullman caught a blinding snowstorm. About 11 PM the snow stopped and the five of us decided the timing was perfect to head out for a little snowball action.
We trekked the few blocks up to frat row. Our favorite target was Farmhouse. Farmhouse had these full size sliding glass doors in the back. So, we all loaded up with about a half dozen snowballs each. We then lobbed one snowball at the glass door that hit with a solid thunk. That would cause one frat member to come to the door, slide it open just enough to stick his head out to try to eyeball the perps. Of course, at that moment we would all unload. It was a turkey shoot. And of course that was like kicking a beehive. The guys came pouring out of the house in robes, underwear, shorts, no shoes, you name it. We battled, but being badly outnumbered, we eventually turned and ran like true cowards.
So after spending several hours taking on any group we could find in the streets, at 2 a.m. we were back in front of our house...and with nobody else to throw snowballs at we were basically chucking them at each other. But then a car came up the hill from downtown and turned on to Spaulding street. One of my bonehead roomies turns and fires a snowball at the car from only a few feet away. Quite perfectly, the guy has his window down and it's a direct hit to the head. The driver immediately stops the car and leaps out.
Uh oh...it's the bouncer from Rico's (they needed a bouncer back in the day!) who just got off work.
My roomie who threw the snowball sprints up onto the porch to try to get away by going into our house. But we'd been out all night and the door was locked. Right behind him is muscle-head. My roomie can't get the door open, so he turns back toward approaching doom and the guy pops him a quick one in the jaw. My roomie then sprints to the far edge of the porch. But there is a wooden banister around the porch with about a five foot drop down to the grass. Apparently he rejected leaping over. He turns back and "POW" the bouncer takes one big swing and connects. My roomie is launched backward, takes out the porch railing and lands flat on his back on the grass below railing and all. It was fabulous. Just like a western movie.
The bouncer calmly walks back across the porch, down the sidewalk, looks at us and says, "any of you guys want some of this?" At that point I began inspecting my shoes. And he got in his crappy Chevette and drove off through the snowy Pullman streets.
And from the grass we hear my humiliated roomie shout from his back in the snow, "gee, thanks a lot for backing me up guys."
It was an awesome night in Pullman!
There were nights we spent climbing the construction site cranes, wandering about campus completely underground in the steam tunnels and catching the freight train that came through Pullman every night over to Moscow. But I think this is my favorite.