"Hey, Sandi," you quickly ask, "Maybe your ferret is somewhere in my dorm room, perhaps in the bed."

 Both Sandi and the studly History major turn to you and openly gape.

 "Hey," you say, "Not you, handsome." And you give the History guy a little chuck on the shoulder.

 He punches you in the mouth. You go down like the stock market under a Republican president.

 When you wake up, you've been stuffed in the recycling bin.

If you decide you haven't had enough excitement for one night, continue your search.

 

If you want to give up and go back to your room, it is time to call it a night.