A worthless investment

It's Friday of Spring Fling, and I'm almost through the Lower Quadrangle security checkpoint when I'm stopped dead by the words, "What's that in your coat?" What was in my coat pocket was not, contrary to what you would assume, hidden alcohol, but an unopened 24-oz. bottle of zero-proof Poland Spring water. I was informed that I couldn't bring my water into the Quad, no matter how obvious it was to God and all the world that it wasn't booze.

Well, if you know me, you know I was going to get that damn water inside if only for the pure joy of violating an inane regulation. Chalk one up for our side.

Now that Fling is over, I want to address a reality:

The extra security at the Quad gates was an enormous waste of money -- somewhere between New Coke and the Edsel.

"The security was not effective at all," Ware College House residential adviser Jessica Lahrmann said. "People brought alcohol in, and I don't honestly think any more would have come in had [the security] not been there. ... The parties were fully stocked."

How did students evade the Social Planning and Events Committee's oh-so-innovative tactics?

"My friend made a 30-foot-long duck tape rope and hoisted handles over the fence, through one of the windows, into her room," Wharton freshman Andrew Metcalf explained as he gleefully showed me the rope. "It was a pain in the ass, but everybody got [alcohol] in."

Penn freshmen validated their Ivy league credentials with some really creative strategies, including one loophole that's so ingenious, I'm not going to give it up. (McGyver, please remember to pass it on for next year.)

"It's silly to think [students] aren't going to be successful," Lahrmann said.

Yes, it is silly, isn't it?

Even worse, the inflexible rules often defy logic.

One freshman, who refused to give his name, shared with me a story showcasing total bureaucratic incompetence. His friend, who was wearing heels, tripped while trying to enter the Quad. Even though she wasn't visibly drunk, the security guards insisted on calling an ambulance.

Wait, it gets better.

"The ambulance took an hour and a half to arrive. [It took] until four in the morning, [and] she was completely sober by the time it came," he said. "They made her take a $500 ambulance ride from the Upper Quad Gate to the hospital three blocks away. When she got to the hospital, the hospital said, 'You're fine. You can leave.'"

Don't get me wrong, the inspections weren't a total waste -- they did keep some very dangerous contraband out of the Quad. "They prevented me from getting this box of Raisin Bran in," said Wharton freshman Brad Miklavic, happily munching away on the banned substance. "I had to leave it at the gate and pick it up later."

The total amount of money which SPEC wasted on security over the last two weeks must have been staggering.

"I can't imagine how much it cost to have us searched every time we came in," Metcalf wondered.

Well, let's make some estimates. If there were two extra guards on each gate for two weeks at, say, $15 an hour, that's $20,160. But wait, on Friday and Saturday there were six extra guards stemming the flow of black market Raisin Bran.

The total expense for the whole mess had to be at least -- at least -- $30,000. Maybe that's why guest passes were $20 a piece? And maybe that's why vendors were charging Yankee Stadium prices.

"Fling isn't supposed to be about making money for the vendors. That's pretty lame," College freshman Bobak Parang said.

Oh, I almost forgot the vendors. Were you wondering why you couldn't bring in food during Fling? No safety or security measures here, just the usual Penn-sponsored extortion. RA Larhmann said they were told that the food and sealed container ban was done to protect the vendors from outside competition. And it is a sensible policy -- how else would they be able to sell $5 funnel cake?

It was "absolutely ridiculous. This weekend is supposed to be for us, not for the vendors," College junior Dan Solis said.

The biggest losers in all this absurdity are not even the freshmen, but the AlliedBarton security guards. When students are frustrated by the regulations, "We have to take the abuse," complained one Upper Quad guard. "We shouldn't be cursed and spit at. ... We told them its Penn's policy; it's not our policy."

Hey SPEC: How about next year, you wake up from your intelligence-induced coma. Your privacy-invading, time-wasting, monopoly-enforcing, cash-burning security system is pointless.

Anyone with an ounce of common sense can see that.

Alex Weinstein is a junior history major from Bridgeport, W.V. Straight to Hell appears on Thursdays.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.