We had to show back up at the frat in a week wearing a suit, but also carrying a suitcase filled with work clothes and a pair of sneakers. We were also to each have a pledge box (matching cigar boxes) painted in the fraternity colors (magenta and gold) packed with a variety of very strange items:
A travel size packet of Ex-Lax
A road map of Danbury, Connecticut
Two packs of matches
Three pencils
Two pens, purple ink
A small notebook
An emery board
Three marbles
Two quarters, a dime, and four pennies, all minted within the last five years
A green lollipop
Four large paperclips
None of us knew what was going on. The first major crisis was finding fifteen matching cigar boxes! None of us smoked cigars, or even knew anybody who did. I had smoked cigars on my first trip around, but not now. Eventually Bill Pabst called his father, who did smoke cigars, and conned him into sending us enough empty boxes to take care of things. He apparently saved them for knick-knacks. Leo Coglan volunteered to go out and buy the paint, and we split up the remaining purchases among ourselves. We almost didn't get it all done. The cigar boxes came in on Friday and we weren't sure they would dry in time. We painted the sides of the boxes magenta and the folding lids gold.
Sunday afternoon we all trooped back up to Kegs, making sure we got there early. We were kept waiting on the street until 2:00, at which point the door was opened and we were marched into the formal room. It was there that we learned trouble was brewing! The entire brotherhood was sitting there, watching us solemnly, with Hank Barlow, a senior, facing us with a gavel. Once we were lined up, he said, quite mildly, "You were told to be here at 2:00. It is now 2:05."
Joe Bradley took the bait. "We were kept outside until 2:00."
Hank jumped up and leaned over the table and started screaming! "DID I ASK YOU FOR YOUR OPINION? YOU ARE LATE! YOU FAILED THE VERY FIRST TEST! YOU DO NOT SPEAK! YOU DO NOT THINK! YOU ARE NOTHING!" He went on in this vein for another five minutes before settling down and sitting back in his chair.
He pointed over at our Pledgemaster. "This is your fault. You failed to train them properly. Now I have to do your job for you." Bill Gasic simply stared at the floor and looked miserable.
Hank turned back to us and ordered us to place our pledge boxes on the table in front of him. That started another tirade. "YOU CALL THIS MAGENTA AND GOLD? THIS IS FUCKING PINK AND FUCKING YELLOW!" He actually picked up one of the boxes and flung it at a wall, where it popped open and spread everything around that side of the room. Much cursing by the brotherhood was done at this moment, but all directed at us, since if we had done it properly, this wouldn't have occurred. It was Leo's turn in the box, explaining that the labels on the paints said magenta and gold. It made no difference, they were fucking pink and fucking yellow!
After about an hour of abuse, we were all sent up to the attic and told to change out of our suits and into work clothes and sneakers. We would expiate our sins with hard work. The attic was a place on the third floor stuffed with ancient and diseased mattresses. Our suitcases were already upstairs, and had been opened and ransacked, and our clothing had been dumped into a single pile. We spent valuable time sorting it out and changing, so we were late for our return to the formal room. Time for some more screaming.
Fifteen of the brothers were sucking on green lollipops. We hadn't brought enough. We had the wrong maps of Danbury, so they were being taken away; we would not be able to use them later in the week. Some of the brothers were sitting there flipping quarters, obviously from our pledge boxes. We were then divvied up into work parties and sent off to various sections of the house with a senior brother to supervise us, all under the instruction of the House Manager. I ended up in the kitchen, where we completely dismantled everything and removed it and cleaned a year's dirt and grease out. We didn't get done until almost 7:30, at which point we were sent to the pantry and told to repeat the process there. We were dirty and exhausted at 9:30 when we all reassembled in the formal room.
Our efforts were considered marginal at best, but would be accepted for the time being. We were fed a delicious dessert of chocolate pudding. At the bottom of the pudding bowls were small chunks of something that looked suspiciously like Ex-Lax. (It wasn't; we found out later it was Hershey's chocolate!) We were sent off for another round of house cleaning. This round lasted until after midnight, at which point we reassembled, got yelled at some more, did some pushups, and received our assignments for the week. First, though, we were handed back our toothbrushes, which had all been used either in the cleaning of the bathrooms or the cleaning of the kitchen. Most of us looked at them with horror.
Each pledge, now known as a neo, or neophyte, was assigned a task. Leo, the shortest of us, was assigned to measure the Hoosick Street Bridge in body lengths. By this they meant his body lengths; he would be laid down and the road would be marked, then he would be lifted and carried head to toe and another mark would be made. This would be done sufficient times to generate a statistically useful sample. Joe Bradley, a very straight laced fellow, was assigned the task of Condom Control Officer, and would have to quiz each brother and neo about their preferences and again come up with statistical modeling. I was handed a gigantic 44G bra. My assignment was to measure the quad down at Russell Sage College, a girl's school, and get the bra signed by as many girls as possible. Two brothers would be assigned to supervise.
There would be a treasure hunt, and we were given lists of the treasures to be found. Most of us stared at the list and simply groaned. Nobody knew where we would find anything! Some of the items included a stripper, a cop, mustache hairs from a Dean, a signature from the owners of the Canty-Hammett Hot Spot (a black bar on Hoosick Street), and so forth. Point values were assigned to the items, and demerits for bad behavior during the week counted against the points.
We were given another bowl of chocolate pudding and sent back to work. At eight the next morning, sleepless, we were fed and sent to our classes. To ensure that nobody skipped out and went to the dorms and slept in, we had to get signatures in our notebooks every hour between classes from a brother somewhere on campus. After classes were over we had to head back to Kegs for more work.
And so it went for the rest of the week. Our second night we got about two hours of sleep. Our third and fourth nights we got about three. Our pledge boxes were repeatedly ransacked, and strange items were added and subtracted. The brothers made sure we had time to do our assigned tasks. I got dragged down to Russell Sage Tuesday afternoon and handed the bra and a black magic marker. I had made one full pass across the quad, stopping every time a girl came up and asking her to sign the bra. About half signed and half were disgusted. I got a crick in my back from all the up and down movements.
One of the girls must have complained. As we started our second pass, a security guard came up and hustled us off to the Dean of Students, and told her about our offense against human decency. He must have been new, since she just smiled and sent us on our way. I did, however, ask if she would sign the bra. She snorted and said I was pushing my luck, but she signed it nevertheless and we went back out to the quad.