Washington - My roommates and I got a low draw in the dorm-room lottery sophomore year at Yale and wound up in a suite on York Street overlooking Demery’s, a dive frequented by motorcycle gang members because of its cheap beer and huge triangles of the world’s worst pizza.
Often on weeknights we would be kept awake by what we dubbed "fight night," when the bar's patrons spilled onto the street at closing time, shouting and throwing punches until the police came.
Participating in one such fight-night melee of that era, we are now learning, was apparently none other than future Supreme Court nominee Brett M.