Panty Raid: The Ultimate Sexy Stress Buster

Stressed out college students go wild at the dorms

A good cook knows how to season a stew pot and simmer it slowly, allowing the flavors to blend to create a delicious meal. That is the established, traditional way to cook stew.

Imagine a cook in a hurry, running out of time to simmer the stew to perfection. Instead, turn up the heat and watch it boil over? Use a pressure cooker? Or scrap the stew and make pizza?

College students facing the mounting stress of fast-approaching first semester exams are cooks in a hurry, trying to avoid the pressure cooker.

It was my first year at the University of Florida, way back in 1966. Many readers of this story today were not yet born at that time. It was a tumultuous time, and “stews” were brewing.

This is a true story. I could never make up something like this!

1966 in the South

Young women growing up in the South were accustomed to controlled environments where we minded our manners and did as we were told. However, the notion of women’s lib was growing, and many young women began to seek freedom and equality with men. The University of Florida was considered progressive and opened its first coed dormitory. I signed up.

The reality was that women lived in one wing, separated from the men’s wing by a common lobby. The dorm was situated amidst several other all-male dorms — like a small island of female students, surrounded by a huge sea of male students.

The stage was set for potentially wild energy when dealing with the mounting stress of the fast-approaching first semester exams. If you did not do well on those exams, chances are you would not return the next semester.

As the day of testing grew near, we felt stress brewing like a pot of stew boiling out of control.

We did not expect the real test to be about human nature. Instead of class-taught lessons, the valuable lessons would be about life, learned by our actions when the stewing stress exploded into chaos.

Breaking the rules

Let’s talk a little about rules. Remember, this event occurred decades ago in the South when there were many rules.

Female students had a strict dress code. No pants or shorts were allowed in classes, only skirts or dresses. That rule was tossed out the following year when a new Dean of Women took charge, and girls wore short (I mean short) cutoffs to class.

All freshman and sophomore students had to live on campus in the dorms, with a curfew of 10 pm. To escape the dorms my sophomore year, I got my doctor to write a letter (like a prescription) that I had serious dust allergies. Because the un-air-conditioned dorms used fans, which circulated dust in the air, I needed to live off-campus in an air-conditioned apartment. That Rx got me off campus — this is a true story!

Another rule — no men in the women’s dorm wing (except our RA). We got a few visiting weekend days shared by gals and guys with all kinds of rules attached, such as wide-open doors — strictly enforced. However, not so strictly enforced on the men’s side of the dorm.

And, of course, all the usual rules about not drinking or using drugs — not to mention that two fraternity houses burned to the ground during my first year due to the beginning of the drug scene there.

No pets. I fess up. My roommate, Ruth, and I had a rabbit named Socrates. Our friends across the hall had two chickens, and other girls on our floor hid away assorted animals in about one out of every four rooms. We had fun keeping our animals a secret. However, Socrates soon became a favorite and was given free rein to hop in and out of our neighbors’ rooms.

Each floor had one study hall intended for undisturbed, quiet study. Instead, several girls on our floor moved their mattresses into the study hall, which quickly became a slumber party atmosphere.

To study or not to study

I tried the last-minute cram thing and found it too damn noisy on our floor to get any serious studying done.

Ruth propped herself up in bed and stared blankly at an open book, paralyzed by the fear of failing.

We had to get out of that dorm. So, we escaped to the agriculture section of the campus, where we found some sheep and other farm animals.

Petting the sheep brought us down to earth. I told Ruth that it was not about academic grades that mattered. Instead, it was about life, personal development, finding out who we are on this planet, our role, how we can do something meaningful with our lives, etc.

I was partly right. I found out after that first semester that grades do matter because you cannot do what you have the vision to do unless other people buy into you and have confidence in you — in short, they do look at your academic record. But, of course, that’s not all they look at.

The brewing chaos

Back to the brewing chaos of the moment — stressed out at the dorms. Petting the sheep helped, and we headed back to beat the curfew by a few seconds. As we approached our dorm, we saw a crowd of guys out front. A crowd was unusual at this time of night. Freshman and sophomore students were already inside.

The guys looked like they were in a frenzy over something. Walk into a crowd of frenzied guys? No way! We ducked around to a back entrance and got inside just before the RA locked the doors.

From UFO sighting to panty raid

The next day, I learned that the guys the night before ran outside when someone said they sighted a UFO. After looking around for a miracle of some sort, they were disappointed at not seeing anything. But the UFO rumor had taken them outside and away from studying. Now, they WANTED there to be something supernatural out there to sweep them away.

As it turns out, they stood outside of the female side of our dorm.

Someone dared to mention that maybe (since the guys were there already) they should do a panty raid on the girl’s dorm. That got attention! A small chant emerged from the crowd — a whisper that gained momentum, “Panty raid? Could we? Yes, PANTY RAID!!”

The campus cops were quickly on the scene and broke up the “UFO” craze that night. But, of course, they also heard the panty raid chant.

The guys were more organized by the end of the next day. They had spread the word, “Let’s all go out tonight and look for UFOs!” But, of course, you know what they meant.

The cops also knew what they meant. So, the RAs told all the women to be in early. The doors were locked before sunset.

Then, beyond the numbers of merely campus police, an entire army descended around our dorm. I am sure they called in extra support from the outside — maybe it was the National Guard! (I can’t attest to that as a fact.) But the reality was that armed police in riot gear surrounded our dorm.

The riot squads built a ring of fires around the building to create a blazing wall of flame!

So, there we were — trapped inside trying to study?!!

Venetian blinds hung on our one window — open wide to see the fires and clusters of armed riot squads outside.

Then it happened. A huge crowd of guys flooded out of the neighboring men’s dorms and emerged from the black depths beyond the luminous fires. They had given up the notion of studying that night as the lure of “UFOs” was far more exciting.

The chant that went up that night was no longer a whisper. It was now a ROAR, “PANTY RAID, PANTY RAID, PANTY RAID!!!!!!!!!!”

Ruth and I watched in disbelief. More men than we had ever seen gathered in one place on the planet came roaring across an open yard straight for our dorm, yelling at the tops of their lungs! It seemed like they would come straight through our one little window.

We kept the blinds wide open.

The guys screeched to a halt right before the fires and riot police. The ring of fires held the front. Yelling young men on one side, armed police on the other side, and us (all the girls) inside the dorm in the back.

We didn’t know if we should feel relief in being protected or rebellious that we needed protection.

The guys fiddled around, wondering what to do next. It didn’t take long. A wild cheer went up from the crowd of guys.

What caused that?

The crowd outside was going crazy, absolutely crazy wild! Were they pointing to our dorm — to our window? No. Instead, they pointed above our floor, clapping and shouting, “Oh yeah, baby, more! More!”

Would this supercharged crowd storm the guards?

Now there was an uproar inside on our floor. RAs and other dorm staff ran swiftly through the halls, ordering us out of our rooms and into the hallway.

“Turn off the lights! Get into the hallway and close your room doors behind you! Sit on the floor! Don’t move or make a sound!”

So, there we were — sitting on a cold floor in our PJs, wondering what was happening outside. Forget the word “study” — it was a lost cause that night.

The fear of failing exams gave way to the fear of surviving.

Then, through the closed doors, we heard them. The crowd outside was going crazy wild, cheering and screaming! Were they coming in through the windows?

No one knew what the hell was going on.

The dorm staff soon lost control of their subjects.

Ruth and I jumped up, dashed inside our room, and encountered a surreal scene — lights out, blinds wide open, and the outside lit up by blazing fires. By the hundreds, the swarm of guys pressed against the fire ring, cheering, jumping around, and pointing at something in the upper windows of the floor above us.

Here’s what the crowd outside saw

There were a couple of audacious young “ladies?” in the room directly above us standing on a desk they had moved against their window. As another blinked the blinds in front of them with the light on in the room, these two started to do a striptease! More than one room joined the dance. The blinking blinds flashed like strobe lights!

Here’s what Ruth and I saw

A huge, riotous, cheering crowd of men. What were they cheering at? Whatever it was, it got the attention of the police too. But, hey, were they, the riot cops, cheering as well?

Small clothing articles rained down from the windows above us to the ground below. It was a shower of lingerie!

We could not see the girls upstairs throwing bras and panties out of their windows to the guys outside. But we guessed accurately.

The guys went berserk, shouting for more. Finally, some were bold enough to dart between the fires and capture their booty, waving it high in victory. The cops let it happen and seemed to enjoy the show!

Unbelievable and hilarious at the same time. Ruth and I held onto each other in uncontrollable laughter, heaving hard. We stopped simultaneously, stared at each other, and knew what the other was thinking. Then, energized by a feeling of unexpected liberation, we screamed with delight and reached into our dresser drawers.

Before we could take any action, there was banging on our door, again! Out into the hallway, lights OUT, onto the floor!

This time, I scooped Socrates up and held him close inside my bathrobe while Ruth positioned herself in front of me so the dorm staff would not notice.

And, so, the night went by. But, in the end, peace prevailed, the guards kept our honor intact, and we were safe.

The guys got the stress relief they were looking for and a few souvenirs to boot. The girls broke the bonds and had fun. The RA’s and dorm staff got headaches. The riot police probably had a blast. All of our illegal pets were safe!

Ruth and I passed our exams.

One more thing

New life emerged in the dorms at our end of campus. We were more relaxed and felt connected by a shared sense of not only humor but also the power of liberation we gained following the panty raid. Creativity did spring out of chaos for us that night. We all played a role in a chaotic, sexy stress buster that turned a potentially violent scene inside out with humor.

I don’t remember much about what I learned in my classes during that first semester. But I’ll never forget when we looked Stress in the face and laughed out loud!

Many philosophical quotes relate to the truth found in humor and about creativity springing out of chaos. Here are a few so true to the life lessons I learned that night:

You grow up the day you have your first real laugh — at yourself. Ethel Barrymore

Chaos in the midst of chaos isn’t funny, but chaos in the midst of order is. Steve Martin

Creativity is born of chaos, even if it is somewhat difficult to glimpse the possibilities in the midst of the confusion. Charles Handy

Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to look at things in a different way. Edward de Bono

It is in the turmoil of chaos that we discover what, if anything, we are. Orson Scott Card