It was the first week of school at the University of Oregon, and nobody quite had classes yet, but there were roommates and there were already people collected up.
This was the Week of the Birthdays. Leslie Gaulding, Brad Needham, Penny Long, and I believe one or two others, all had birthdays in or around the same time. *By the way, Happy Birthday, Brad!*
The scheme was hatched: Too many of us were still one year short of the magic date to take her off to have her first legal beer. Instead, a crowd, a swarm, collected at her door outside her third floor room in Collier Hall. We all knocked at once, and she was surprised, and we swarmed in "Huphuphuphup!" and grabbed her coat over her head, and yelled "We're kidnapping you for your birthday!" and dragged her off to a car, where we piled in and drove the seven blocks to the Farrell's Ice Cream Emporium.
Farrell's was this faux-1890s-styled place with rinky-tink player piano, and massive amounts of not especially great ice-cream, for a small price. We got out of the car, marched her inside, flung off the coat, yelled "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and collectively got her some sort of giant hot-fudge death thing.
It was great.