Correction -
First off, I need to make a correction to my dorm/apartment history at Ohio State University. When I originally transferred out of the dorms and off campus, I did move into the Castle (See post - OSU Roommates, and Tear Gas). But I didn't move directly in with Don, Fred and gang. I was actually invited to move into the apartment one over. On the end unit of the Castle. A coworker of mine at the OSU Faculty Club asked me to move in with her and her roommates.
Yes, I said her and her roommates. Three co-eds, one other guy, and me. Deb, Cheryl, Karen, Bill and yours truly. Later a fourth co-ed moved in. It was a LARGE apartment. The Castle was huge. This was just one of four units that the original, turn of the century boarding house had been divided into.
So how did I end up next door with the sociopaths? (aka Don, Fred and gang.)
We all knew each other from the OSU Faculty Club. Where we worked. We'd work all evening then head out to the strip of bars (that's 'strip-of-bars' NOT strip-bars (although sometimes the distinction wasn't so clear!)) along High Street.
(OSU Faculty Club, front view from Oval)
The High Street Bars at OSU:
Back in the 80's and early 90's at OSU, High Street, which fronted campus, was home to a dozen or so college dive-bars. Back then, the drinking age was 18, Just Say No was Just Say Yes, and AIDs was still a distant concern. Things could get pretty crazy at these "establishments" and often did.
Some of the better known bars were Papa Joe's, The Oar House, Marco Polo's, Mean Mr. Mustards, The Travel Agency, South Heidelberg and Jousters. Along with the bars, there were dollar gyro shops (Apollo's), head shops, grunge clothing stores (back then they called it Goodwill) and a bunch of other post hippie crap.
Papa Joe's
Papa Joe's was one of the more notorious dives. It was one of the larger more crowded bars. PJ's had a lower level and an upper balcony that overlooked a fair sized dance floor. The whole place was built out of wood which was stained dark by rivers of spilled beer. It smelled and was always crowded. Every weekend, someone in the balcony would either puke or would spill/deliberately dump beer down onto the dance floor below. It was a great place.
And they served beer by the bucket. Yah, the bucket.
We drank there often. That is until one night I saw something that turned my stomach. And that's saying something. I was there with the gang and an old high school acquaintance. We were drinking buckets of watered down Old Milwaukee (or some other cheap swill) when I noticed my high school buddy hadn't got up to go to the bathroom. Very unusual. Especially when you're drinking those volumes of suds.
So I said, "Hey John (not his real name), don't you have to piss?"
John replied, "Yah, I am. I just go in the empty buckets."
With a raised eyebrow, I looked under the table and sure enough. He'd put an empty Papa Joe's beer bucket at his feet and filled the bottom with urine. I gagged a little. Then I turned positively green when he picked it up and placed the bucket on the bar for the barkeep.
The barkeep grabbed the bucket and without a glance dumped the toxic contents into a deep sink, rinsed it out with a quick dash of water, then filled it back up for the next customer. I never drank there again.
We usually went straight out to the bars from the Faculty Club. On nights when we weren't working, Don and Fred had to come over and get me. Every now and then they'd knock on the door like normal people. But most of the time, they'd crawl over the lower level roof to my room and bang on the window. Or just pound on the wall as loud as they could.
Not surprisingly, this tended to piss off my roommates.
One night, after heavy drinking, Don and Fred decided this was too much work. And crawling over was too much of a hassle. So they hit on a plan. They decided to punch a hole through the wall from their apartment directly into my bedroom. That way they could yell over at me anytime they wanted.
They grabbed and iron crowbar and proceeded to start bashing it into the cinder block firewall separating our units. I think they got about half way through before my roommates threatened to call the police.
After that, I figured it would be simpler and more peaceful for everyone if I just moved next door!
Scotch the Wonder Dog:
But back to (or start on as the case may be) the main story -
Early that Fall quarter with Deb and the rest, there was a house meeting to decide on whether to get a puppy. A vote was taken. The vote went four "ayes" and one "nay".
I was the single 'nay' vote.
So the rest of the house went down to the pound and picked out Scotch, aka "Scotch the Wonder Dog". A dog that would become famous on campus in record time.
Scotch was a mutt mix. He looked to be part Golden Lab, maybe a little Shepard, with some Terrier thrown in for good measure (later I'd wonder if he wasn't all blood hound). He was a fair sized puppy with a light butterscotch colored coat....hence the name. To be honest, he looked a hell of a lot like the dog Petey off of The Three Rascals. Minus the black circle around the eye.
However, the other guy in the house, Bill, would grab dark mascara from one of the girls, hold Scotch down and actually paint a black circle around his eye. Then he'd put a bandanna on him and take him out to the Oval on campus to meet girls. Shockingly, it worked on a number of occasions.
As the lone roommate who voted against getting a dog, I vowed not to take part in his care. I had enough on my plate. I didn't need taking care of a pet added to it. I chose to ignore the dog and let my roommates care for and enjoy him.
So who does the dog decide to follow EVERYWHERE? Yah, yours truly. Everywhere I went that hound would follow. Right underfoot. Like I gave birth to it. Fortunately, over time it wore off. I didn't feed him and eventually his heart followed his stomach.
Wander Lust:
I have to admit Scotch was a decent dog. Other than the occasional puppy teething and chewing on everything, he was well tempered and playful. But he had a problem...
He liked to roam.
Any chance he got, and there were lots of them with five people coming and going to classes, he'd bolt out the door and be gone. He had a collar with our number on it and we'd get calls from all over campus.
He wound up in apartments, dorms, classrooms. You name it. The other roommates would then have to go get him. On one occasion we got a call form a co-ed dorm on the 18th floor of Morrill tower. The mutt had somehow gotten up the elevator and was running around the dorm. Bill usually volunteered to go get him. I think it gave him more opportunities to meet co-eds.
The Scotch Bar:
One night, Scotch outdid himself.
Don and Fred had climbed over the roof and kidnapped me to come out to the bars on a weekend night. So we gathered up the rest of the gang and proceeded the two blocks down West 10th Avenue towards the watering holes on High Street.
We wound up in the back patio of the Oar House. We sat down at a picnic table, bought a couple pitchers of cheap beer, and then started to shoot the shit while enjoying the 'scenic' view of the adjacent Wonder Bread factory's second floor. We'd been there almost an hour when I got the shock of my life.
I was sitting at the table with the gang and a co-ed from the Faculty Club, sipping a beer, minding my own business when something wet hit my leg and went up and down it. I jumped straight out of my seat and screamed.
Which scared the crap out of Scotch the wonder dog.
He'd tracked me the length of West 10th. Then down High Street to the Oar House where he got past the bouncer at the front door and made it back to the patio and our table. Like I said, that dog followed me everywhere!
I picked him up and carried him back to the Castle. On the way back, two co-eds stopped me on 10th and said, "Hey, I know that dog."
Mirror Lake:
Scotch's crowning moment came one day at Mirror Lake on campus.
Mirror Lake is a small pond on campus that's about three feet deep with a fountain in the center. It has an amphitheater next to it and ducks swim on its surface. The ducks were there year round. The university took care of them and their wings were clipped to keep them put for the scenic ambiance....
Scotch got loose again one afternoon. We got a call a couple hours later from a highly irate OSU trustee. Highly irate. Scotch went straight to Mirror Lake. Then had a field day hunting down stranded, clipped winged ducks. Literally, ducks in a barrel. Albeit a really big barrel. He killed or maimed a half dozen of them before alarmed students and staff corralled him. Thus ending the slaughter...and Scotch's fun.
The very next day, Scotch's picture was on the front page of the OSU Lantern, school newspaper. The article, 'Dog Terrorizes Ducks at Mirror Lake!' The university removed the ducks after the incident. It would be almost 10 years later before they put ducks back.
I was on that campus for four years and never once even got my name in the paper. Scotch made the front page, with photo, inside of his first quarter. Wonder dog indeed.
