Last winter, eight friends and I signed a lease for a 6600 block oceanside house on DP. We knew living on the 6600 block was going to be quite different but we had no idea exactly how it was going to affect our sanity.

As the summer ended and the school year started, I began to notice a disgusting trend in the way people view DP apartments. Perhaps these people think that DP residents really like to clean up after everyone else’s shit. But I’m going to tell you right now that is not the case.

A while ago my apartment complex had an open party with a band. Tons of people showed and it was cool. We had an inside keg for friends and four outside kegs. Then some girl ran in my house to help herself to a cup and proceeded to help herself to the inside keg. While I was attempting to take our cup back, her friend ran in to help herself to our bathroom. Her hand was clamped over her mouth and her cheeks were full of vomit. Needless to say, cleaning up after two stupid drunk chicks in the morning when I’m hung over is not fun. While I was escorting them out, one of the girls – the cup stealer – yelled, “I just want to have a good time and party during my freshman year!” The evening only got worse from there.

Towards the end of the night a Brazilian guy, who was walking around grabbing girl’s breasts, got his ass kicked by 10 skinheads who kept yelling about the “Brazilian Mafia.” The following morning, as I walked outside, drops of blood were like breadcrumbs leading to the finale of a dried-blood pool in the driveway and a blood-soaked rag on a car windshield near-by.

People who live on DP go all out every weekend for parties, but the houses themselves and those who live there get no respect. During the summer, my apartment was mysteriously missing food, until we discovered a cokehead neighbor was sneaking into our house and consuming anything in sight. Every weekend our cup cabinet empties out, and the next morning we can only find half the amount we had before. The towels in our bathrooms end up soaked with unidentified liquids on the floor and the bathrooms themselves reek of cigarette smoke and vomit. The bedroom doors usually remain locked, for fear of horny drunks who can’t possibly wait to get home, but apparently nothing stops them from using the bathroom. Random stupid people like to allow their mangy mutts to crap in the volleyball court near my house. This past weekend, some drunken party guest smeared dog shit all over the sidewalk and now it smells like a combination of shit, vomit and urine outside.

Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy throwing parties and my apartment complex does take randoms into account when we plan our parties. I remember how it was to stagger down DP looking for kegs and cups, so we always make sure these things are provided. But when two in the morning rolls around and my roommates and friends are trying to tap the expensive inside keg, this is the time when people who don’t know us should get the fuck out.

Contrary to seemingly popular belief, people who reside on DP do not like to wake up hung over and clean up after everyone who took part in the free festivities of the night before. For everyone who does not live on DP but ventures there frequently in search of a good time, please, enjoy yourselves. But if the kegs are outside, don’t just waltz on in and help yourself to the bathroom and the refrigerator; they’re not yours. Remember that a drunken DP night is all fun and games, but after you get to go home to your houses, we have to sleep at ours with any destruction, vomit and garbage you left behind. And, remember, come two in the morning, when the residents start asking people to leave, don’t get offended and start protesting, just leave with the little drunken dignity you have.

Rebecca Turek is the assistant county editor. She’s too lazy to kick people out of her house when she’s drunk, so she decided to abuse her position and just write a column about it.