I had to stay at the ZTA house one night after my big sister's 21st birthday. We had all come home on a party bus; a cop saw this and decided to park himself outside our house the whole night hoping that one of us would get in his car so that he could pull us over for a DUI. I got up the next day 11am and walked out to my car. I'm outside on a Tuesday afternoon wearing a pair of black pants and a shiny halter top. The Pike house is next door and some of the Pikes that I'm friends with happened to be outside. They spotted me and immediately made the assumption that I must've spent the night at a fraternity house and was walking back to the ZTA house to get my car. I tried to explain the situation to them but with no avail. To this day, whenever we're all in a huge crowd of people, they love bringing up the story of how I am a shacker who walked down Greek Park in my black pants.
