Rigney's Bar

Over sophomore summer semester, one of our teammates Mike Rigney built a bar in shop class. I was not aware that there was such a thing as "shop class" at Dartmouth, but apparently there is, cause Rigney defenitely built a bar there. It was a really nice bar, made of smooth stained hardwood along the edges and checkerboard tile along the surface. It must have taken Rigney several days and a couple hundred bucks to build.
The bar fit nicely in the corner of a dorm room. It was large enough for a bartender to stand behind it, and would serve two to three patrons standing in front. All reports confirm that the bar was well received by the drinking community and that many students enjoyed bending an elbow on it during the academically relaxed summer term.
However, it was now the end of fall term, and this bar had been taking up space all semester in Stevo's on-campus apartment that he shared with three other teammates. The bar had not seen any use all term, and the inhabitants of 302 River had repeatedly asked Rigney to come remove his bar from the premises.
It was finals week. And Stevo was done with his finals. And Stevo was celebrating. And by celebrating, I mean drinking massive quantities of beer and liquor and looking for trouble.
The dust covered leviathan of a bar caught his eye. "Why is that piece of shit still here?" he asked to no one in particular. "Haven't we told him a million times to get that frickin thing out of here?" Stevo spits out a dip of tobacco and dials the phone. An answering machine picks up. "Rigney! Come get your bar tonight or we're throwing it off the roof." Stevo laughs maniacally as he hangs up.
At this point no one has recognized what has been set in motion. The bar is certainly going off the roof.
Stevo gives Rigney about thirty seconds to call back before asking for help in moving the bar out of the apartment and into the open air stairwell that separates 302 River from adjoining apartment. His roommates were only too happy to get the bar out of their apartment and so they help lug it outside. The bar now sits next to the stairwell in the open air. One tough hoist will get it up to a three foot high railing, which is now all that seperates it from a third story fall to the sidewalk. The bar is heavy. Really heavy. Too heavy for Stevo to lift to the railing by himself. Stevo shouts at the handful of bystanders "Which one of you bastards is going to help me lift this fu*ker up on the rail?"
There are no takers. No one wants to be an accessory in this. Rigney is a big guy by skinny runner standards. He is going to pummel Stevo if he goes through with this. A call goes out to the whole track team, and everyone in the River dorms in general. "Come to 302 River! Stevo is going to toss the bar!" We needed spectators. Not only to share the blame of witnessing the act, but because we needed at least one person foolish enough to assist in hoisting the bar up to the rail.
Soon we had gathered about thirty people. Most looked on from the stairwell, chanting "Stev-O! Stev-O!, Stev-O!". A couple spotters were sent down to the ground to ensure no one was killed by the falling bar. One teammate tried to talk sense into Stevo, tried to buy more time for Rigney to respond, and tried to explain why this was a really bad idea. This only motivated Stevo even more. A few residents of the river apartments threatened to call the cops. Stevo was running out of time. If it was going to happen, it had to happen soon.
The chanting reached a crescendo. "Stev-O, Steve-O, Steve-O!" Stevo waves his arms up in the air to rile the crowd. He starts to lift the bar. He struggles like Atlas lifting the Earth upon his shoulders. He is faltering. "Someone help!" he grunts. A form surges from the crowd, grabs the other end of the bar, and quickly, it is sitting on the rail.
The crowd is stunned. For the first time it is clear that the bar is truly seconds from destruction. People shuffle toward the exits. Guilt washes over the onlookers. Guilt and yet the thrill of vandalism on a grand scale.
Someone starts a countdown. "Five, four, three, two, one....."
One last shove by Stevo, and off it goes. It floats through the air for a split second as time seems to stop.
The crash brings out every resident within earshot. The police are called. The spectators run in every direction. Stevo runs for the nearby treeline.
The cops come and take witness statements. No one fingers Stevo by name, and he escapes prosecution. Stevo's roommates wait for the heat to die down, then return to clean up the smashed tile and split wood. Rigney finds out sometime the next morning. Rigney has let it be known that he is going to beat Stevo to a pulp the first time he sees him. Stevo goes into hiding.
He wears a disguise around campus, and sleeps in a friends room. After a week, he realizes he can't go on indefenitely like this. He agrees to a financial settlement with Rigney. And thus ends "The time Stevo threw Rigney's bar off the roof."