College Stories: The Blackout 

I don’t know the statue of limitations for vandalism in Louisiana, but fuck it. Here it goes. 

It was a mild, damp night in the fall of 2008. Somewhere in northern Louisiana a small town bubbled with the energy of young, black students, Filling a bland landscape with taste and diversity. 

I was lounging in a cool dorm room, sweat dancing upon my brow like a fly girl as I tapped an Xbox 360 controller vigorsly, Engulfed in a game of Halo 3 on a TV screen the size of Saltine. 

My room was fresh as hell. 

 After chasing tail and knowledge around campus All day, it felt good to come home to your best friend and central air. In addition to that, we had ripped countless pages of XXL and VIBE Magazine and taped the pictures on the wall. 

My best friend “Clubman” standing in front of one of the bedroom murals. 

The normal crew was present (Clubman, Nose and I) and Nose’s understudy and emulator, Razorback was there as well. I remember being on my way to the winning kill in Halo when suddenly…

The entire room went black. 

The walls were thin so you heard the whole dorm react. 

“YO SON..”



Evidently the university hadn’t paid their electric bill, because everything blacked. It was dark for as far as the eye could see. 

Naturally, the first thing that black people do when there’s nothing to do in the house is go outside. We all reverted back to being a bunch of adolescents running around the block. It reminded me of the northeastern blackout of 2003, actually. 

As we stood posted in front of the dorm, people were dancing in the streets, doing the HBCU “No Music” chant. Women chirping, fellas battle rapping, just jubilant people making the best of a bad situation. 

As I’m observing my surroundings, I see the funniest shit. A good friend, Pea, is walking out of the front gate of our dorm building eating a bag of cookies while holding another 30 odd bags of snacks. 

Now before I start this dialogue, let me properly introduce Pea. 

Pea was a Rural Louisiana Local. He was from five minutes away in any direction of campus. 5 foot 6, with a raspy, high pitched voice, big heart and mouth FULL of jokes. 

Pea sitting on the cafeteria steps, remember those shoes. 
Pea: “Aye dawg. The Chicago niggas just broke the vending machine open. They passing out snacks and money like Robin Hood. 

Clubman: “Fool stop playing!”

We sprinted back inside the dorm lobby to find exactly what Pea stated. Twenty or so Dread head, Creative Recreation wearing, Miskeen tee shirt draped, SOUTHSIDE Chicago niggas handing out snacks, quarters and dollars. 

Chicago #1: “Aye Folks, take what Yall want. We got our share, this for the hood G.” 

The five of us grabbed as much food and money as we could, dropped it in my room and went back to stand outside. 

For a moment things were still and quiet in the midst of utter coonery going on around us. There was entirely too much opportunity To do dumb shit and if anyone was going to take advantage of that, it was gonna be me. 

Lucky(Me): Yall think the fire alarms still work? 

Eyes lit up. Ambitious, devilish smiles crept across the faces of my homies and an adventure began. 

Clubman and Pea had a debate about which car we should use. Ultimately we ended up going with Clubman’s car because it was newer, hard to detect and had very dark tint. Pea drove a 1985 Ford Crown Victoria TANK with no tint. You could see that bitch from space! 

While we were walking to the car, Clubman and I decided to pull the alarms in our own building. 


The fellas came stumbling out. 

Clubman: “Man niggas play too much bra. I got class in the morning bra. I’m out here trying to become a successful black man and niggas wanna pull alarms bra? Grow up fool.”

The funniest part of that quote is the fact that He said that shit like he didn’t pull the alarm. 

The five of us piled into the Impala and pulled off into a night of mischief. The first stop was the girls dorm, building 500. Now, you couldn’t get into 500 without a key card, so I had to work my wrist. 

Clubman pulls up and I hop out. There’s a bunch of girls standing outside so I use the sob story. 

Lucky: “Hey ladies. I’ve been acting out lately and I want to go upstairs to make it up to my girl. Will Yall let me in? 

Girls Collectively: “AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW” 

Dumbasses. As soon as they let me in, I walk to the far end of the hall, yank the fire alarm and take off running out of the back gate. 


The whole dorm pours out into the street. Before they can even get a glimpse of me, I slide back into the back seat and Clubman screeches off as we all laugh hysterically. 

We couldn’t hit another building in that area, so the next stop was on Main Street at the Jamaican dorms. 

Clubman: “That was funny as hell, but it was too loud fool. Police station down the street.”

Lucky: “You right my nigga, I ain’t trying to get kicked out of school. How about we creep up on this next spot and then peel off.” 

Pea: “HAHAHA. Hell yeah, who’s turn is it? Nose and Razorback, Yall up!”

Nose: “DAT DAT DAT. Boye, I’m bout dat life.” 

We turn onto Main Street and turn off all the lights as we creep up on the Jamaican dorm like the fucker was gonna run off. Nose carefully cracks the door open as we park on the street, biting our lips and snickering the whole time. 

Nose tugs on Razorback, but he doesn’t budge. He just shakes his head and folds his arms like a gotdamn three year old refusing vegetables. Nose was getting frustrated and aggressively, yet nonverbally demanding that razorback join him, which was hilarious in Itself. 

Nose gets fed up and goes alone. In a Chris Tucker, Martin Lawrence-esque fashion, Nose rolls in the grass, stands up and presses against the wall and peeks around the corner  like James Bond. 

We’re all in the car crying laughing under our breath, when we hear a young Islander become furious. 



She was interrupted by the fire alarm and our laughter, which occurred at the exact same time. Nose sprints out the building and gets in the car as we peel off again. 

It  was then time for the finale. 

Pea: “Mane I’m so on right now. If the police come Imma spray they ass with a fire extinguisher, WOOSH. Aye mane, we gotta do 900.” 

Clubman: *looks at me* “900?”

Lucky: 900 it is. 

900 was a 3 building, mammoth of a dorm that housed hundreds of female students. Upperclass, female students. You only dreamed of being in 900. 900 is where they had hunch punch, stripper poles and threesomes. 900 was where there was 4 girls to every room and they had pillow fights in lingerie. 

We would be legends. Unknown legends. 

We pull up to 900 and Clubman parks and turns the car off. 

Lucky: “Nigga you the getaway driver, what you doing?” 

Clubman: “Fuck that, jit. I want a piece of this.” 

Fair enough. 

The five of us pile out and walk up to the building, giggling and looking remarkably suspicious. There were a few people out in front of the dorm, so we went around back. 

We searched feverishly for the fire alarm and found it on the wall next to an extinguisher, smack dab in the intersection of a four way hallway. 

The moment of truth was upon us. The four of us each put a finger on the alarm (Razorback didn’t) and pulled down simultaneously as the alarm screamed it’s familiar song. 

We jubilantly took off down one hallway and Campus PD stepped out. 

Immediately, we juke back to run the other way and More campus PD is there. We try and go the 3rd and fourth way, but the RA has blocked off one exit with his golf cart and he and security are coming from the other way. 

Campus PD #1: “Yall done caused a lot of fuss tonight. Pulling these damn alarms making a ruckus.” 

All I could think about was losing my scholarship and how pissed my mom was going to be. Then, for only the second time in my life, something happened in slow motion. 

A miracle. 

Pea lifted his hairy little leg up and thrusted his Sperry boat shoe covered foot into the “Break in case of emergency” Glass. He grabbed the extinguisher, and threw it to Nose, because he was tallest. 

Nose pulled the pin, sprayed at the approaching law enforcement and then into the air to pull a Classic, Batman smoke pellet maneuver. 


We took the FUCK OFF down the hallway closest to the car. 

Clubman and Nose are from Florida and Pea ran track, so imagine how fucking fast we were moving. Clubman unlocks the doors from his key as we’re about 50 feet away from the car. He then slides across the hood like Tom Cruise, gets in the car as we all fall the fuck in and pulls the hell off while we all held on for dear life. 

I looked back just to see the cops standing up wheezing. They’d never catch us. 

The tires of the impala screamed as we disappeared into the night. 

To this day we laugh about that story. It has never left the lips of my close friends, and now I’m sharing it with you all. If you enjoyed this as half as much as I did writing it, please share. 

Fortune favors the bold! 

King Malcolm.

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