Crashing, “the act of joining or entering without invitation,” is a long established tradition among all species of the world. Humans crash parties, lions crash gazelle socials and ants crash our houses. Indeed, humans would have never evolved as a species if our sea-dwelling ancestors didn’t crash dry land. Crashing evokes a mixture of emotions, ranging from fulfillment and glee to guilt and nervousness. There are also a wide range of outcomes from crashing: acquiring free food and other items, being escorted out of an event or getting shot to death, which actually happened to one unlucky fellow in NYC. The risk involved in crashing is what gives it its thrill.

Crashing is an inherently obtrusive event, so to make it acceptable, one has to be a considerate crasher. The acceptability of crashing is determined by the balance of two criteria: the burden placed on others versus the benefit you derive. For example, jumping into someone’s funeral reception - and taking the dead man's shoes - would be unacceptable. But sometimes crashing can bring you such pleasure, you end up feeling it would be wrong NOT to crash.

There are many events, however, which are acceptable for crashing, such as events that offer free food. Since such events happen quite often at Stanford, it would be pertinent to take a closer look into crashing these situations. It's perfect - you can get great pleasure from getting free food, it’s usually harmless to help yourself to it, the access is easy and the risk of getting caught is minimal. By default, I crash almost every free food event I come across. In fact, I feel like we have an obligation to crash these events. We were hunter-gatherers not too long ago, and it would be a dishonor to our ancestors if we didn’t take advantage of every free food opportunity. It is also good to note that this food often ends up in a dumpster.

For some, crashing is a way of life. I have a good friend, let’s call him “Gary Davis," who has pulled off some amazing crashing. After having had his wallet stolen in Paris, Gary was glumly walking around until he came across an absolutely luxurious hotel, matching the splendor of Versailles. True to his crashing instincts, Gary immediately began to explore the hotel. At one point he was upstairs checking out a hallway when he came across a security guard. Employing his smooth, crashing skills, Gary asked the guard where he could find the fitness center.

The guard asked Gary to follow him into a private security elevator, and as they descended to the lowest floor, Gary nervously thought the worst, wondering if he was being taken to an interrogation room. Instead, the scene that unfolded was surreal - the elevator opened into a long, misty (yes, misty) hallway with vaulted ceilings, the end of which contained a gorgeous woman sitting at a desk. She asked for Gary's room number, and having memorized an actual room number, Gary seamlessly passed off as a guest. The woman then led him along an indoor river, which eventually emptied into an unbelievably lavish pool, surrounded by statues, murals and attending servants.

Previously, Gary had been reduced to washing his clothes in the shower of Paris’s most decrepit hotel. Now, he was being offered hors d’oeuvres, champagne, massages and towelettes dipped in cologne. Gary brazenly returned the next day, and, having made friends with all of the staff, he was welcomed with a smile.

Gary is one who turns crashing into an art. He demonstrates the considerateness and the confidence of a good crasher. Not only is he unobtrusive, he is appreciated. And this demonstrates one of the lovely effects of crashing - by the fact that you are uninvited, you can unexpectedly mix things up in a positive way.

Crashing is like eating chocolate - a slight bit of remorse offset by a lot of pleasure. You, too, can experience the joys of crashing. Just don’t feel out of place, don’t be an asshole and don’t get shot.