I found one of those shirts, a bright yellow-orange one, lying on a path outside the dorm last night. I laid it atop of one of those concrete bollards before going to copy edit, figuring that if it were still there when I got back, I'd take it. (If someone's paying so little attention that they drop a new shirt, I reason, they probably don't care too much about it. Either that or they're a negligent, neglectful person in general, in which case they don't deserve to live. I kid...) A few hours, much copy editing, and some time spent in Rutledge later, it was still there, and now it's mine. Ah, the things I could do with it.
Also, again with overhearing things that I didn't think real people actually said to one another in common parlance: On the path to the student center, I witnessed some guy loudly greeting his friend with, "'Sup, fucker?!" Why calling a friend "fucker" is necessary, I don't know. I guess he got tired of the more tame "man," "dude," or even the satirical "yo."