7 Seniors Reveal Their Biggest Freshman Orientation Horror Stories

“I had paid tuition, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t take classes.”

I logged onto StudentLink to pick my courses, but when I went in, every single course was full. Every single one. I started emailing professors asking if they could open up a spot in their classes, but they all said no. I had paid tuition, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t take classes. I talked to my advisor and she couldn’t help me either. I didn’t get to take classes until spring, but it was really nice having my time to myself. - Denise Polkowski (CAS ‘19)

“From that day on, I vowed never to touch another musical instrument.”

In the summer leading up to college, I decided to learn the drums. I used all my savings to buy a drum set and practiced for two hours every day. I downloaded a metronome app on my phone, since I wanted to be able to keep a steady rhythm. My drum teacher constantly told me that keeping time is the most important job of a drummer. I was so excited to show off my drumming skills at BU, or maybe even join a band.

When I got to BU for FYSOP, I was walking down Commonwealth Avenue when someone came up to me and yelled “I see you walking down the street and girl they say you got no beat!” After a summer of constantly practicing my craft, you can imagine how disappointed I was. From that day on, I vowed never to touch another musical instrument. - Jane Mancini (QST ‘19)

“Seeing as I have a large tattoo of the center of the periodic table on my left butt cheek, I got nervous.”

Before orientation, I go onto my Housing Portal and see that I am living in Rich Hall in a triple. It is at that point that I realize I’m going to BU. I pack my toothbrush, hand sanitizer, notebook, sweatshirt, and toaster in a large duffel and board the next flight to Logan Airport.

At that point, I notice that there is a security guard at the airport. I ask him to move over so I can get on the airplane, but he doesn’t, and says I need to go through a metal detector. Seeing as I have a large tattoo of the center of the periodic table on my left butt cheek, I got nervous. I walked through the detector and to my surprise, it started buzzing the chorus of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

At that point, I broke down into tears. I looked into the security guard’s eyes, knowingly. “Dad?” He nodded. I ran into his arms and buried my face in his chest, for I had not seen my dad for thirty-five years. But when his arms wrapped around my back, I felt not two arms, but three, then four, then five, then seven. I struggled to break free from his grip, but it was too late. He had engulfed me.

After my dad resorbed me, I started texting my friend Marsha, from home. “Marsha?” I wrote. The three black dots appeared signaling she was going to respond, but then they disappeared immediately after. My phone switched from LTE to 4G.

It was at that moment that I noticed, inside my dad’s stomach, there was a lobster. The lobster clapped its claws together and said “Travel west for all the riches.” I turned to my left and there, I saw Rhett jumping up and down. He held out his hand and I grabbed on, tightly. Suddenly, we were flying in outer space.

After a few minutes of holding my breath, we landed on Marsh Plaza, right next to the seal. “Thank you, Rhett!” I exclaimed, but when I turned to look at him, he had turned into Dean Elmore. Shocked, I fainted, and landed on the seal. I withdrew the next morning. - Carla Peterson (CAS ‘19)

“And that’s J-O-R-J C-I-L-L-I-C-H-A-N-C-K-S?”

My name is George Kilachanx. People usually don’t have trouble spelling my name, but at BU Orientation, nobody could spell it. It was bizarre. Eventually, I went up to someone and asked, “Why can’t anyone spell my name? This is ridiculous. Is this some kind of prank?”

The person looked at me, confused. “What’s your name?” the person asked me. “George Kilachanx,” I responded. “And that’s J-O-R-J C-I-L-L-I-C-H-A-N-C-K-S?” the person asked. “No, not even close,” I insisted.

At that moment, I noticed something strange out of the corner of my eye. On the wall was a poster that said “Boston College Student Council” at the top. “Am I at BU?” I asked. “No, sir, you’re at Boston College.” I laughed. That explains why nobody could spell my name! What a day! - George Kilachanx (SHA ‘19)

“‘Sweetie, don’t use your knife right now,’ she said.”

When I opened my Housing Portal, I saw that my roommate’s name was Vamp Ire. I didn’t think much of it at first, but he was from Pennsylvania and under hobbies listed “looking for human flesh.” I arrived on campus in August and when I entered my room, Vamp was standing right at the door staring daggers at me. The blinds were shut, the lights were off. He smiled and began to laugh maniacally. I was still pretty calm, but starting to wonder if something might be up.

Vamp took a knife from his suitcase and began to run his fingertip along the blade. Vamp’s mom came out of the closet and turned to Vamp. “Sweetie, don’t use your knife right now,” she said. Her voice was soothing, almost too soothing. I looked at Vamp again. He bared his teeth at me and licked his lips. It didn’t seem too out of the ordinary, but I felt a tiny bit weird.

“You wanna see my stuffed animal collection?” Vamp asked me. “Definitely, that sounds awesome!” I responded. He opened another bag to reveal five dead bodies encased in pink tissue paper. “I stuffed them myself,” he added. I’m just from a small town, so I wasn’t entirely sure if stuffing humans was normal. I guess it’s just a different culture where he’s from.

Vamp and I got along pretty well after that. Sometimes I caught him biting me in my sleep, but he said he just wanted my blood for nutrition. He’s in Sargent, so I guess he knows what he’s doing. - anonymous Redditor

“What happened next was absolutely, without a doubt, the strangest, weirdest, wildest, cringiest, most surprising thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.”

After a long day of cheering and community service in Roxbury, I was ready to head to my room and take a nap. There was a cute guy in my FYSOP group named Dan who I invited to come to my room. What happened next was absolutely, without a doubt, the strangest, weirdest, wildest, cringiest, most surprising thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.

Dan and I had been talking about The Office all day, but neither of us had seen the original British version. We decided that enough was enough and watched the first two episodes in my room. It was so meta. I definitely like the American one better, but I’m glad we gave it a shot. - anonymous Redditor

“I demanded that the tiny Rhett show me his ID so I knew it was him.”

When I was moving into Warren Towers, I got one of the big yellow carts for my luggage. I figured it would be easier than lugging each bag up to floor 16 one by one. When I looked into the cart, I noticed a small critter scurrying around the bottom. A closer look revealed that it was a teeny dog, the size of a paperclip.

It looked at me and began speaking in a high squeal. “Hi, I’m Rhett. I’ve been shrunk. Please don’t hurt me,” it said. I was confused. I didn’t think Rhett was so small. “You’re Rhett?” I asked. “Yes! Please help me!” “Why of course!” I responded. I put my hand into the cart and let Rhett onto my palm. “Can we be friends?” he asked. “It would be an honor, Rhett,” I responded.

As we walked, I started asking Rhett questions about BU and college in general. Rhett seemed a bit unsure of himself a lot of the time, which was weird. He could only remember 6 of the 8 colleges, thought Questrom was the school with the stereotype of guys not getting girls, believed tuition had decreased this year, and even said that West is best. I started to get suspicious.

After a few more minutes, I was fed up. I demanded that the tiny Rhett show me his ID so I knew it was him. Unphased, Rhett pulled a driver’s license out of his pocket. Rhett Elmore, age 179, etc, all looked good until I noticed the top. Issued by the state of Nebraska. I knew it. Rhett lived in Massachusetts all his life. It was a fake. Busted! - Scott Jameson (CFA ‘19)