It's so late on Saturday that it's early on Sunday. JFK Street watering holes have long locked up and Tommy's is out of cheese slices. Another Saturday night appears wasted.

It's an all too familiar weekend phenomenon at Harvard: oversized congregations of nomads wandering aimlessly through the streets, their hopes of locating a party dead. About the only things left on the agenda are the late-night munchies. And about the only place lef to go is Store 24.

"The worst thing is people who think the coolest place to be is Store 24," comments Larry, the overzealous night manager of "24." "I mean, dude, it's a convenience store."

Most frequenters of 24 have probably never met Larry, and perhaps never even seen him. But worry not--Larry watches. With the solid stockpile of sodas, candy bars and ice creams pint left by the "day crew," Larry is hardly a busy guy. In fact, as his co-worker Gwendolyn informs us, he spends the majority of his time flirting with "the Harvard girls that come in to buy 50 cent Snickers bars." Gwendolyn does a charming impression of their habit of prententiously slapping down platinum credit cards on the counter and asking, "Ah, do you take Visa?" Indeed, Larry sees it all--sometimes too much.

But all in all he's a pretty decent guy. He volunteers that the closest he's ever gotten to "getting some" from the Harvard girls on the job was about a year ago when two girls came running into the store to use the bathroom.

"They were fine-looking women, so I gave them a hard time to get their attention," he recalls. "I told them they couldn't use the bathroom."

But apparently, these girls really had to go.

"I'll flash you if you let me," one girl offered, but Larry, being the decent guy that he is, refused. He admits, however, that he "would have said yes if it weren't for those damn cameras." Poor Larry. So close. But we all know how it is--no one gets a piece at Harvard.

Larry blushes when he recalls the time he overheard a conversation between two girls in line, one of whom was buying five packs of Altoids.

"I was just minding my own business, ringing up this girl's sale when I overheard her friend ask her why she was buying so many Altoids." Apparently this girl wanted more than just fresh breath. A lot more. Even Larry's jaw dropped when the girl responded, "Because of the fellatio factor, silly." Oh yeah.

As Larry rationalizes, at least "that was a learning experience," all the while conceding how pathetic it is for him to get sex tips from Harvard students. Some of his experiences are less educational, however. About a year ago, an insanely wasted graduate student staggered into the store babbling about how his girlfriend had just dumped him.

"He waited by the refrigerators in the back," recounts Larry. "Whenever someone went back there, he would slur, 'whatever you're getting to drink, I assure you, I've got something better,' and he proceeded to drop his pants." According to Larry, it was by no means better.

Apparently the coolers in the back are a popular hangout for drunks, as Josie, another employee, knows all too well.

"About six months ago, a drunken Harvard student walked right into the back of the store," she says. "Without saying a word, he opened the cooler, and just urinated all over the gatorade section." As Josie says, "I didn't know what to do--I just stood there watching, speechless." And the funny thing is, she claims that it wouldn't have been so bad after all if it had been the first time something like that had happened. In fact, "that was the third time someone had pissed all over our store." Note to self: buy Gatorade at CVS.

So honestly, what would you think of Harvard if the only contact you had with the students was from 2 to 5 a.m. on a relatively uneventful Saturday night, during regular Store 24 pit stops? Certainly Larry, Josie and Gwendolyn have all seen us in a drunken stupor attempting to satiate the munchies. Perhaps Larry, puts it best: "I'm sick to hell of all you Harvard students, with your guys obnoxious requests, and your ladies' inane cackling."