Iowa State: Reggie and the Water Tube

It was spring of 1987. Eventually the story will come to a fateful Monday evening.

And for mood–I’m listening to the key songs of “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” (The Trio, Ecstasy of Gold)

One of the guys on our floor was named Reggie. He was about 6’3, 240–total muscle, a farm kid. He was friends with Stevie, a shorter, thinner kid from a farm who had farm-boy strength, too…just not 6’3. Also important, he’s ‘Stevie’ because we had multiple Steves on the floor and since Stevie had a boyish face–Stevie it was.

These two would play pranks on one another on a regular basis–the one I remember was Stevie tying the knob of Reggie’s partially open door to the door of Trent/Arnel across the suite. Stevie then knocked on Trent’s door. He pulled the door which slammed Reggie’s shut. That annoyed Reggie so he got up and opened the door which immediately slammed the other one shut–which got Trent to yank his open again…until about five minutes later Reggie and Trent figured out what was up….pretty good, non-damaging prank. It was a never-ending cycle of revenge between Reggie and Stevie…good times!

So in April of ’87, Reggie was working as a lab assistant in the Chemistry department. That gave him access to some equipment…extra stuff no one would miss…like surgical tubing. Reggie ‘requisitioned’ quite a bit of the stuff though initially I think he intended to use the tubing to create a slingshot or like a rubberband to snap at Stevie.

But now we get to the south-end drinking fountain which could ‘go pee’ on the floor. If you turned the knob, the water pressure was immense and it would shoot 6-8″ past the drinking fountain. This gave Reggie an idea–why not tie a knot at one end of a bit of tubing, fill the tube with water, then clamp the other end, releasing the clamp to shoot a stream of water–as a homemade water gun? It was a great idea and worked. Reggie did this first with a small half-foot bit of tubing…the proof of concept (these guys were mostly engineers, so you HAVE to have proof of concept….). Unclamped and with a little squeeze, he could hit someone with water 3-4 feet away…but with Reggie, bigger was always and inevitably better.

So he took a bigger piece of tubing. I recall it being 2-3 feet in length. On a Sunday afternoon, we were sitting in the Foster lounge–I think we were playing a card game called ‘Nuclear War’ when Reggie came in carrying the tube. We knew Reggie was going to do something–we also knew he wouldn’t do anything to destroy our game…good pranks don’t destroy. Reggie walks past us to the window–which only opened a little (to prevent…I don’t know why really…for safety? But out at Towers, the windows opened fully on all ten stories of the buildings.) “You guys wanna know how far I can shoot this?”

Hah–of course we did! Just as important, we wouldn’t be the people getting in trouble if things went south. SO we moved a bit away from the window to let Reggie have room. He stuck the untied end under the opening, facing south towards the Presbyterian Church across the street then released the clamp, squeezing the tube under his arm simultaneously to maximize the pressure and water distance.

Oh. My. God.

That little tube of water shot out over Westgate’s entrance, over the sidewalk, OVER THE STREET to splatter on the sidewalk in front of the church. I don’t think Reggie thought he could hit over there, but it was clear he realized he had a brand-new weapon in the infinite war with Stevie. He had an evil twinkle in his eye.

By Monday night, Reggie was ready with the ultimate tube. He wrapped it diagonally across his torso twice, filling it at the high-pressure water fountain, able to bear the weight of more than eight gallons of water now in the water tube. [Eight gallons is nearly 70 pounds by the way]. He had a nozzle to maximize the direction and with the tube under his shoulder, he could squeeze it like a bagpipe to force the water out.

Stevie was not a fool. If you knew you were the target and your attacker was looking for you, you’d be somewhere else…and so Stevie was at a girlfriend’s or Parks Library–nowhere near Westgate. Reggie didn’t know this–I suspect he thought Stevie was still there after coming back from dinner. I was in my room (307-B) when I heard a voice from the far end of the hall. “Stevieeeeeeee…Stevieeeeee…where are you? I just want to talk to you. Stevieeeeeee….” It was the song of the executioner. This was when I stuck my head out the door to see the tubing, the fully-weighted down hulk of Reggie walking down our hallway. I did what you would do in the moment–went back to my own work. I knew how this was going to end…and it wasn’t good for Stevie.

Our RA was a senior named Mike. Mike had a 6-9pm class on Mondays; I think it was one of those mandatory senior capstone classes–the sort that if you don’t pass, you don’t graduate. When you’re in your last semester, weeks from graduating, that keeps you focused. We all knew each others’ schedules so we knew Mike had likely just left (thus Reggie free to stalk Stevie). No, that Monday, Mike was still on the floor for some reason.

“Stevieeeee….”

At that point, there was a massive boom followed by a massive ‘whack’, like someone dropped a stack of pallets onto a concrete floor. I mean loud. I got up, looked out into the hall–like a dozen other people. Reggie was standing by the drinking fountain. I’m not sure he was aware of much in that moment–such a great plan, how could it go wrong?

Reggie never considered surgical tubing wasn’t meant to contain water for the long-term, wasn’t designed to be used as the water equivalent of a flamethrower. Well, not until that moment.

That’s also when Mike O. popped into the hallway, backpack over his right shoulder. Mike was a good guy (best RA I ever had) but he could have a temper. For a split second, I wondered if Reggie had lived his last day on Earth (hah). Mike took one step towards him and then said in a cold voice, “That better be taken care of before I get back.” He turned and walked out the north end of the floor.

So–how do you clean up eight gallons of water on carpet over a solid concrete floor underneath it? Towels aren’t going to work. Reggie wound up getting a trash can and a dustbin, scooping water into the trash. Most of the water disappeared eventually…of course, on Lowe, the floor below us, they suddenly found themselves in possession of two waterfalls pouring down their walls. No worries there because the water kept on going, forming a nice swamp in front of the building’s Hall Advisor’s room.

It took days for the carpet on our floor to dry out–the hair dryers Reggie used to blow on it had little effect. Needless to say, there was disciplinary action. I remember part of it. Reggie wound up having to do an ‘educational program’ the following week at our floor meeting discussing the dangers of misusing materials like water tubing…and shaving cream, talcum powder, etc….every thing he’d ever used in his war with Stevie.

Good times…good times. My opinion, this is a story worthy of a college movie…though I’m not sure it could ever happen now in the social media era–too many reasons to sit with a computer or phone, too many distractions from getting into good old-fashioned trouble.

If you’re ever in Ames, heading west past Beyer and State Gyms, past the Health Center, you’ll see the Presbyterian Church and a parking lot across the street. That lot was where we lived and it was glorious.