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Inside Satire V: Harvard’s Most Opulent “Club”

They were young and they were free. They had Pabst Blue Ribbon, Spotify Premium, and not a care in the world. They were lucid and dazed, elegant and smutty.

Caligula’s bacchanalian orgies. Hugh Hefner’s extravagant blowouts. Satire V’s “Glam Rock” kickback last Saturday (8pm to 10pm). Such parties are the stuff of legend. Passed down in scandalous whispers from generation to generation. And this reporter was lucky enough to score an invite.

When I arrived at 8:30, the party was already in full swing. It was clear that Satire V had gone all out. The walls were festooned with black and white pictures of the members of Queen printed with the finest Science Center BW-1 toner. It was clear that dozens of dollars of Crimson Cash had been devoted to decorations alone.

My eye flitted to the food offerings next. Two, nay, three medium cheese pizzas perched on one genuine particle-board desk. Hundreds of ounces of Franzia Sunset BlushTM and Burnett’s Pink Lemonde VodkaTM flowed freely from a bookshelf that had been turned around and placed against the wall. The strains of Ariana Grande’s “Break Free” wafted from a laptop cranked up to maximum volume, completing the wanton tableau.

Disoriented by the exorbitance that surrounded me, it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. The members of Satire V and their tipsy blockmates were engaged in a salacious game of “Never Have I Ever” (nearly half of the members eagerly clapped and lowered an index finger when asked if they had ever kissed someone with tongue).

As I sat down on a radiator that someone had thrown their Harvard Yale t-shirt over to provide overflow seating (there were at LEAST twelve guests if you include the roommates who were engaged in a heated game of Settlers of Catan), I was approached by the host to write my name on a translucent DixieTM cup, which I immediately recognized as belonging to Pfoho dining hall. I’ve never been so buzzed in my life. I felt the heat rising in my loins as the radiator kicked on unexpectedly, cranking the party into high gear. 

Someone threw their viscose-blend scarf over the nearest lamp, casting a garish red haze over the scene…

I dare not repeat what ensued afterwards, but suffice it to say that Raoul ‘17 and I will be “grabbing a meal together” sometime this week.

Image source: Flickr/Michael

© 2015