Dinner at Mory’s (Tap Night)

After delivering my Master’s Tea (fancy for “lecture held at a College Master’s home”), Master Keil presented me with a Morse College tie. I was honored and gave him a thrift store tie that I bought that day; it was Morse’s colors – red and grey. Part of me hopes he’ll tie it around his head and goes running through campus during Spring Fling, Yale’s private Spring Break.

Following our clothing swap, a few students, the Master, his family and I walked to the fabled Mory’s where we dined. You had to be a member or be invited by one to dine here. The floors and stairs creaked as they would in any 150-year-old establishment and it was very brown. Old tabletops sporting over a hundred years or Yale graffiti hung on the walls. We were seated upstairs around a large wooden rectangular table that was surrounded by old pictures of sporty young Yale football players. The rest of this fine establishment was mostly filled with men in blazers ceremoniously passing gigantic cups of brightly colored liquor.

Our veteran waiter was a hearty middle-aged man that you may have seen in Animal House doing a keg stand. He wore an apron and carried a small dark cloud with him that every so often lifted when he cracked a crafty little joke. I didn’t quite understand his humor, but one thing was for sure, that man knew his salad dressings!

Apparently, and I was warned, Mory’s is not known for its quality food. You come here to experience the weathered wait staff, the place’s history, Yale traditions, and to hear the Wiffenpoofs, a group of acapellas, who had the night off. What a name? I think they should look into using an anagram of their name and tour the country. When you’re as famous as they, you have to have a band pseudonym you play under; how about The Info off Pews. They could do some Christian Rock to make some quick cash while touring. That’s a huge market you know.

Dinner was served. Rubbermaid sponsored my steak and my jaw got a serious run for it money. But the Baker’s soup made up for it. I didn’t really care about the food though; this was a once in a lifetime experience. We all swapped stories, kept our glasses full, and became friends. I was sitting in a room with the future leaders of America – architects, politicians, scientists, filmmakers, economists, sociologists, and artists. It’d be interesting to see what happens to them all.

After dinner, I strolled down to the corner and found myself in an Ivy-League Twilight Zone. There was a guy in a scream mask, a blindfolded young girl, a man handed out Xerox copies of his ass, and another fella who was wearing Speedos trying to hump my leg. This must be none other than the infamous TAP NIGHT, where select juniors are “tapped” into secret societies. The most notable being Skull & Bones, which supposedly has the Scalp of Geronimo inside. Other secret societies have their claim to fame too; Wolf’s Head supposedly has the largest taxidermy animal head collection in North America, Scroll & Key has the highest amount of reported assets weighing in at just over $6,000,000 (what the hell do they have in that tomb – Fort Knox’s annex), and Book & Snake supposedly hosts huge orgiastic parties.

Most of the secret societies have their headquarters on campus in dark tomb-like structures with little or no windows, no signage, and big unwelcoming gates. Others meet in off campus apartments – that doesn’t sound so secretive though. And one, The Pundits, just pulls elaborate pranks all over campus.

For a while, I patiently waited outside of Skull & Bones for the right moment to pull an Indiana Jones Stunt – seize the front door, rush in, take Geronimo’s Scalp, and return it to its rightful owners. I had no luck, and I was told if I did, I’d probably be tracked down and shot.

So I headed to Old Campus with my host April. April is a very sweet young woman who took good care of me; there needs to be more people like her out there. Aside from being a great host, April studies monkeys and lemurs.

Old campus was a booze-soaked battlefield with several questionable “tapping happenings.” One group of guys dressed like Tarzan was kicking around a mini-keg bouncing it off their heads. Other groups were just running around in costume tackling each other and drinking boxed wine. In the middle of it all, a girl was making out with a hug plastic mold of a vodka bottle. Performance art?

I found my way to a group of blindfolded girls who were being hazed by a smaller group of very drunk girls. I convinced them that I worked for the Yale Daily News and had them form a huge pyramid for me – promising them the front cover.

I capped the evening by breaking into an unnamed secret society meeting place with the help of a couple insiders. To my disappointment nobody was there, so we left them a little surprise.

I think I’ll try running around San Francisco drunk in a black cloak and a scream mask trying to blindfold people; and when I get arrested, I’ll tell em it’s part of an initiation ceremony into my secret society Crabs & Eagles.