Mifflin Mayhem: Living through the block party

Consider this your warning.

Madtown Lowdown | Maura Curtis | May 6, 2016

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We didn’t see it coming…

My roommates and I had a countdown for Mifflin written on the calendar on our fridge since the beginning of March. We live on Mifflin and we couldn’t wait to share our beautiful Mifflin Mansion for this great Wisconsin tradition. We planned a big breakfast, stocked up on orange juice and champagne and told our closest friends to come over before the big day started. And everything was great until it started raining, then our agreement to not let anyone we didn’t know into our house completely Slack for iOS Upload-6went to shit.

Let me just say that I wish it was a thing to hire an actual bouncer. Eventually, my roommates and I had no control of who showed up on or porch or, better yet, in our living room. Everyone was a friend of a friend. Soon enough, it was like I was surrounded by a room full of over 100 drunk strangers. It was not fun.

Between the full pizza stolen out of our fridge, our carpet that is now stained black from muddy shoes, the smell of a stale keg that hits you hard as soon as you open the door, and the almost 20 garbage bags it took to clean up half-filled beer cans, Solo cups and who knows what else, Mifflin 2016 really got the best of us.

That’s not to say, though, that there weren’t moments of the day that were enjoyable. We got to control the music, so Beyonce’s incredible album “Lemonade” and all of our favorite throwbacks played on repeat. And having the “I live here” excuse to skip to the front of the bathroom line (bathrooms were also a scary sight) was a really nice luxury. Or the view from my covered porch of people taking selfies with police officers or cheering the mailwoman on when she delivered my roommate a package at the height of the festivities. Or hearing either side of the street yelling “Eat shit, Fuck you” to each other, it
was like a game day on steroids. And even the “Steven Avery drinks for free” sign made this an experience I will never forget.

My roommates and I agreed that having the responsibility of living in a house on Mifflin during the Mifflin Street Block Party was more of a burden than anything. We all had more fun in the past because we had the freedom to bop around to other friend’s houses. This year, we were stuck yelling at random girls to stop stealing all of our food. I still am proud to tell people I live on this wonderful street, but next year there will be a big, buff bouncer at my door (I’m not kidding).

And even though it was mostly a rainy, blurry day of attempting to kick people out, my roommates and I already started another Mifflin countdown (360ish days