The first entry on this list belongs to a memory that has infuriated me since my first day of college. The day before registration, my parents piled me and a lot of my crap into the family car and headed north. I bet that's true for a lot of you (except if you go to school in the south and the part about it being my parents). The Ithaca hotels had been booked solid for months, and we were lucky to secure some lodging on the outside of town.
Big Red is Cornell's nickname, and also the name of the rash caused by this hotel's bedbugs.
The next morning, we headed to campus and saw lots of kids with their folks looking at maps and buying stupid bumper sticks and T-shirts. One of those kids was from my old high school. Her folks and mine made small talk and exchanged pleasantries until talk turned to what hotel we'd been staying at. Y'see, her family had managed to book the hotel right on campus (which was run by the hotel school. Yeah, Cornell has a hotel school. Super weird. In my day, it also had the most attractive students -- although any 17-year-old kid who knows they want to be a hotel administrator when they grow up doesn't deserve to have sex, in my opinion). In any event, you might be wondering how this family got such primo lodging. Well, they were only too happy to tell us.