While on the road to Appleton last weekend for a short, yet much-needed getaway, my friend Jen and I found ourselves reminiscing about our college days.
You see, we were meeting up with another of our roommates, Alex, who was traveling from his stomping grounds in Chicago, so old times were on our minds.
We lived in a four-bedroom half lima bean green and half mustard yellow townhouse that we still today call "752" (after its address) on Anderson Street in Marquette.
There was a small cement porch on the front, which hosted many steak and chicken barbecues (and an occasional karaoke challenge), and another on the back side.
Most of our living room furniture we picked up at Goodwill. But our loveseat, that would maybe kick back lazy boy style with a little elbow grease, had a free sign on it near Northern Michigan University's campus. We couldn't pass it up.
Of course, our two gigantic pink seashell lamps with pink lamp shades, they were something. A real conversation piece for first-time visitors to 752.
As was Alex's 72-gallon fish tank.
It was comparable to one of those tanks you'd find at a pet store all fancied up with jagged coral, seaweed and colorful rocks.
Of course his fish - an Oscar (also its name), piranha, jack dempsey, bala shark and a bottom feeder - were anything but small.
And surprisingly enough, they all got along.
"Remember when we fed Oscar corn?" Jen asked as we cruised along County Road N leaving Florence, Wis.
"How could I forget?" I replied. "We got busted."
What happened was, we grilled corn on the cob earlier that day and decided to see if Oscar would like a kernel or two.
Meanwhile, Alex wasn't home.
So, I snagged a video camera and Jen grabbed a corn cob. Soon the camera was rolling.
With her arm resting on the corner of the tank, she plopped the golden pebbles into the water one at a time. Slowly they coasted down into Oscar's mouth.
While it seemed Oscar loved the new tasty morsels, Alex wasn't too happy when he stumbled across the video.
Of course we couldn't forget the slipup I made when I confused dish soap with dish detergent. In my defense, the label on the bottle was hard to make out, kind of like diet pop where "diet" is written in microscopic lettering and camouflaged in the label.
Anyway, I made a quick trip to Econo Foods that day since we were out of dishwasher fluid. Cruising down the aisle, I checked out the brands and came across this tall yellow bottle. It was twice the size of any of the others so I thought, hey, it would last us a while.
With the machine loaded, I poured the goop into the designated detergent holder, locked the door, turned the knob and let it do its thing.
In the meantime, all of us were vegging out, watching a movie.
I'm not sure what part of the cycle the dishwasher was in when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a white blob creeping in. The inches thick river of suds made its way from the kitchen, around the corner and into the living room. Big oops.
We must've gone through our entire closet of bath towels that day.
Needless to say the floor sure sparkled, unlike our dishes.
Kelly Fosness can be reached at kfosness@mininggazette. com.