Once upon a time, the 10-Man was an office space--two large offices, eight smaller ones, and a lobby/library in between. Years ago (no one in the room is quite sure when) somebody decided to make it into a suite.

Most of the bedrooms are small. Michael J. Heffernan '92 calls them "closets." But for Heffernan, the pain has been eased since he drew a lucky number in their room lottery and wound up in one of the two prize singles. The smaller bedrooms have lofts--some were already there, and others were built this year.

But the common room is big--big enough to fit, among other furniture items, the pool table Heffernan brought from home, a couple of couches, a table and a shelf. On the shelf sit two massive speakers (Jeffrey M. Peppercorn '92 is in a band.) Under the shelf are an assortment of kegs. On the wall is a ram's head (J.B. Baker '92 says his grandfather shot it.)

Along one wall is the staircase and the private elevator, opening directly into the common room. And along the opposite wall is a kitchen area--complete with the "kegerator," an item passed down from 10-Man group to 10-Man group. No one knows exactly how old it is or how long it's been passed down, but it has a Mondale-Ferraro bumper sticker on it.

When it's time for a party, the furniture goes. The ram's head on the wall goes. Everything goes besides the pool table (which is carefully covered) and the bar.

After the party (the morning after, never that night), is cleanup. But with 10 people contributing, it doesn't take long--about an hour, Peppercorn says. The worst part is the floor.

It's a tile floor, which tends to get a little sticky. And there's a depression in the middle. When there's a party, the depression fills up with what Peppercorn describes as "kind of a combination of beer and mud and other bodily fluids." It's known, in 10-Man lore, as "Lake Sereika," in honor of a former 10-Man resident who passed out there once.

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Living in the 10-Man makes you instantly Somebody. Arnold says he and his roommates are treated differently by other Currier residents.

"We're more outgoing," Arnold says. "They're more receptive to you because they know that the parties are going to keep going all year long...we're sort of minor celebrities."

But of course, famed 10-Man status didn't just fall into their laps. It took some serious planning. During their first-year, the someday-10-Man-residents were living apart--they didn't even all know each other. But sophomore year, when Baker, Hughes, Arnold, Jonathan Stefanick '92 and Blake V. Flynn '92 wound up in a Currier quint, they came up with a Design.

"We started thinking, 'Ok. What's the best way for us to get into the 10-Man,'" Hughes reminisces. "'We look at each other and said, we want to find the five biggest partiers in Currier House.'"

The search didn't take long--Suvanto, Lefkowitz, Peppercorn, Heffernan and Sanford J. Roskes '92 were busy throwing bashes and raising hell in their own corner of Currier. The two groups found each other, and got together. "It was unbelievable how well we hit it off," Hughes says.

Kind of like the Brady Bunch. With beer.

They lived together, in a pre-10-Man of sorts, during their junior year. Then they entered the special lottery that's held for the 10-Man. They competed against one other group. They won. The rest is history.