Pointless University Stories II: The Ten O'Clock Yell
I lived in Calumet residence, which was an apartment style residence (we had suites and kitchens rather than singles/doubles on a floor with central washrooms) built in four stories around a central courtyard. It was traditional during quiet weeks (the weeks before and during winter midterms and spring finals) that at 10 o'clock each night, everyone would hang out the windows of their suites and yell as loudly as they could to burn off stress.
One particular midterm year, a fire alarm went off just as the 10o'clock yell started. (Fire alarms were a weekly occurrence in Calumet, because our heat based fire detectors were inconveniently located directly above our toasters.) People were forced out into the courtyard to wait for the fire department to clear the building as being uninflamed. Given the freezing rain at the time, this was a particularly miserable experience, and we all huddled miserably together and under whatever shelter we could find that didn't involve trying to get up the incredibly slippery 26 steps that would have taken us over to one of the other dorms.
Once we got the all clear, we made our way back into our suites, where we discovered that we should have left the building a little more slowly--and maybe closed our windows on the way out. Almost every suite had at least one window that was now frozen open by the rain. It was a damned cold night in Cal that night.