"What's it like living on second floor?"

I have been asked this question MANY times, so for you, my beloved reader, I shall give a general rundown of life on this sacred hallway. People say, "That's Phi Kappa's floor, so it must be crazy and super patriotic, right?" Oh silly and uncultured peers of mine, that is an outstanding and almost insulting understatement.

Second floor Benson reeks of manliness, freedom, and whatever air freshener we have plugged into our walls. (I'm a personal fan of "Turquoise Oasis.") This floor is the uncontested party hallway in Benson. (Sorry third floor, you guys had a chance up until you complained to Joel for us to quiet down. Now your bragging privileges have been revoked.) Our beloved hallway is the HQ for the Phi Kappa boys. The floor has belonged to PKA for quite some time now, and it gives one a sense of pride in being chosen for the opportunity to survive here. Granted, we do have a few on the hallway who aren't technically in PKA or very rowdy, but they're normally chill so they can stay.

I have decided to let you in on how our lives are. Well, not all of it. We can't have our lovely little floor being broken up now, can we? That would be a tragedy, for I believe Benson is the only dorm which can tolerate our antics (by the way, non-Phi Kappa guys, snitches get stitches). Anyway, let's get to it, shall we?

First off, the laundry room giveth, and it taketh away. "Where did my socks go?" "Whose boxers are these?" It is a mysterious place to be respected, for you never know the will of the laundry gods. We try to sacrifice freshmen and anyone who attempts to leave the floor to keep them satisfied, but it never seems to work. Now, on to our days.

Every morning, we wake up to the sound of the National Anthem. We kick off the day by saying the Pledge of Allegiance to all of the American flags in our dorm rooms. I say flags because there are multiple. Next, we all walk out in the hallway and sing "America The Beautiful" like the big, happy, borderline psychotic, overly patriotic family that we are.

After we sing our song as a group, we can then begin our day. We shower and sing once again, but this time it's "God Bless The USA" to spice up shower time a little bit. We then proceed to class like "normal" students, but we are indeed a special breed. After chapel, we travel to the Wallace-Gano Dining hall every day (I know, how do we always seem to get reservations at this fine establishment?) only to be disappointed by the lack of meat variety there. We need our steak. We are carnivores, after all, unlike you puny, regular omnivores. On special occasions, we will travel to Hoop Cheese or Bell's for a joyful celebration, bonding over food as brothers do.

Our days in the dorm are normally pretty chill; however, once the sun goes down and darkness sets, a fire arises in the hearts of the boys here on the floor. Living in Benson, you are told to expect little sleep, and that is almost entirely due to the second floor boys. When curfew comes, and other children are sound asleep, we gather together in the hallway for entertainment in many forms, for we do not truly come alive until 12:30 a.m.

From daring rip-stick rides on a water-covered tile floor, to door slams, to playing a painful form of dodge ball with metal bicycle rims, (just the rims, no tires because obviously that would only slow it down), you can bet that we will always have some mischievous and dangerous (but for the sake of lawsuits, definitely not illegal, right? #SweetLittleAngels) activity going on. We live for the rush of hurting each other, but mostly the freshman, those poor, poor little freshman.

Now I'm gonna skip the night-time freshman hazing that we definitely do not do in any sort of fashion, and talk about how we end our night. If we get hungry after our nightly escapades, we take a journey to the hallowed gathering place of late-night meals, Waffle House. Upon our return, we decide that it is probably time to rest our weary bodies, and return to our rooms where we do our bedtime rituals.

First, we finally do whatever homework is due the next morning. Next, we sing the fight song of whatever football team we dedicated our lives to. Rocky Top can be heard above everything else, as it should be. We are Life Champions after all. Finally, we kneel beside our alters to Lord Trump to remind him that he gets dibs on our first born children.

Once we complete our rituals, we can finally lay down and drift off to a peaceful sleep. After we wake up from our gun, girl, and country music-filled dreams, we prepare to do it all over again.

In short, our floor is a place unlike any other on earth. We are loud, rowdy, and like to (in a Christian way, in case FHU wants to read this) party. It gets crazy at times, and it might seem like it would be too much to bear, but once you live here, you never want to leave.

So do you have what it takes to be one of us?

P.S. Here is a picture of Fergie, for there has never been a more loyal and lovable mascot. We miss you, buddy.