TooMuchTooSoon

While trying to come up with amazing stories from my first semester of Freshman year, the only one that stands out in my mind is our Hotel Party. Now… this was probably the most fun we had freshman year, and definitely the one thing we will all remember.

The Monday of Finals week, yes our first ever Finals week, we rented out two rooms at the Motel 6 in town, in not the best of areas. Anyway, it was myself, Chatham, CS, Wheaton, DumbKid, the tall annoying kid, the short annoying kid, the two girls (the one with the pretzel mascot and the one from texas) and Owasso. There was a one or two others, but they’re not big players in the storyline.

So we filled up the bathtub with ice, put all our beer in there, and each had our own handle/fifth of alcohol. My weapon of choice was Captain Morgan, my favorite up until then, and now just amidst the things I can stand. Needless to say, we all go really drunk really fast, and it was an absolutely amazing time.

Rewind to the weekend before this, Owasso’s boyfriend and her broke up, and it was ugly. He apparently pushed her into the street outside our dorm. Now, not in front of traffic or anything, but he still pushed her… SUPPOSEDLY. Now, my roommate, Wheaton, doesn’t take very kindly to that, and was not very happy.

Fastforward back to the party. This kid calls his girlfriend, and he’s hammered, and is asking where we are, but we wouldn’t tell him. He eventually followed this really stupid kid and found where we were. Owasso and Texas girl were in one of the rooms, and we weren’t going to let him get in. He turns the corner after coming upstairs, and Wheaton meets him right there. We could tell this kid was drunk and high, and that didn’t help his cause. We refused to let him passed, and Wheaton told him to leave immediately, but that didn’t happen. He tried to push passed him, at which point Wheaton said ‘fuck that’ and socked him in the face. There was for sure a scuffle and a few more punches thrown. Wheaton was also at the point of almost going up and over the edge of the railing outside, but we kept him back in.

Separating the two wasn’t the end. No no… it was only the beginning…

Stay Tuned

Everyone knows you’re ‘not supposed to drink in the res halls’ but no one ever really adheres to that. As long as you aren’t stupid and blast music are yell to someone to have them pass you the vodka or another beer, you’re not going to really get into trouble.

I’ve been on both sides of the spectrum, lived in a dorm and was an RA in the same dorm. Let’s just say it’s not that hard to drink without getting caught, because we did it all freshman year (almost, hence the point of this story), and I didn’t even have to question anybody, for the most part, when I was an RA. Be smart, don’t be a moron, that should go without saying.

Anyway, freshman year… It was the short annoying kid’s birthday, and we were all drinking in his room. We were not out of control, not doing anything stupid. The music was on very low, we were all just sitting around and having a good time. I was snapping some pictures, just because I wanted to document all the fun times we had being fresman.

Well, sure enough, I had a little too much to drink that night and didn’t really think everything I did through all the way. So I went back to my room, put the pictures on my computer, and put them on good ol’ Facebook. No one said anything, we were laughing at them, and I think we even tried to put up ones ‘without’ alcohol in them, but we were drunk and that clearly didn’t work.

About a week later, I got an IM from my RA telling me we needed to talk. Turns out one of the other RAs in the hall found them from some other kids profile, and because we were drinking in the dorm, we got written up. Sure enough, I immediately took them off, and we awaited our doom.

That all happened in December, and we didn’t get talked to until the end of February. And nothing happened. Ever. It was ridiculous that they made us wait forever to talk to them, and then nothing happened. Good times.

Turns out in the end, I’m friends with the RA who reported us, and we all have a great story to tell about our ignorance… umm, my ignorance…

But like I said, it’s really easy to get away with it, just don’t be ignorant…

Everybody is always concerned with their first impressions on people. Something about making them think you’re not a psycho or something really gets people concerned with what they do or how they act.

The best first impression I’ve ever seen, well, more like heard of, was of my good friend Chatham. It wasn’t so much of a first impression more so than trying to impress a girl, but you can’t have an impression without trying to impress.

So it was the first weekend of Freshman year, or second, but who’s counting. We were all going around to random frat parties, just having a great time getting drunk and whatnot. Plus, most of it was free because we were ‘potential recruits’. Anyway, we were in this really shitty house, in their basement referred to as ‘the cave’ and we had been getting drunk all night. Chatham decides it’s time for him to become bartender, and gets behind their bar and starts dealing us out drinks. Sure enough, after a few minutes some other people tried to get drinks, and he realized quickly that his fun was over. We finished what we had and then got out of there (just before the cops came too).

Now, I had gone home after this for some other reasons, but I heard all about this story and I wish I was there. Apparently, Chatham had found a gallon of milk filled up pretty far, and decided he wanted to chug it. The reason he was doing this was to ‘impress’ a girl and try to get her number. For some reason he thought if he chugged this milk, it would lead him to get her number.

So he chugged, and eventually puked everywhere (not sure if right after or a little while later), but it was still funny enough. The girl did give him her number, but we later found out it was a fake number, of course.

One of the funniest parts of the story is that towards the end of our second semester sophomore year, we found out who the girl was. It turned out it was someone who had known through common friends, and had eventually kind of become friends with her. We didn’t find out she was the one he chugged the milk for for a while, but when we did it was certainly quite ironic.

The stupidity some people go through to make first impressions, or trying to get someones number, is beyond me…

So, like I have previously said, I go to a fairly large school with a good football team. Tailgating is a huge part of our Saturday mornings, or afternoons. While all of the other tailgates are fun, there was one from my freshman year that was pretty fun.

The night before a game one week, one of the girls on my floor had her Aunt and Uncle come in the night before and set up their tailgate. Of course, we were all invited and they had all the booze and food we could have dreamed for. That was a great start to the night. So, we pre-gamed with whatever we had left in our fridges, then headed over to the tailgate.

Sure enough, the little trailer thing they had was all set up, food ready to go, and the beer nice and cold. We all started drinking, listening to music, hanging out, and just having a grand old time. It’s memories like these that help create an amazing freshman year. Anyway, the excessive amount of alcohol led to a few occurrences.

Besides all of us drunk dialing our friends, I happened to dial up BOTH of my parents. My mom didn’t answer, so I left her a message, but my dad happened to pick up at 12:30 at night. I held a ten minute conversation on the phone with him for the first time while at college. The best part is that he didn’t know about it until one of my friends back home told him at the gym a few days later. Sure enough, I heard all about it, but he didn’t really make a big deal about it. It was more funny than anything… especially for me.

All in all, this night was an absolutely amazing way to spend a freshman year friday. Tailgating is way to much fun to not do it. If you don’t go to a school where there is a lot of tailgating, or good football… go to a tailgate. It’s so so so so so much fun.

Just, get shitty… and enjoy some football…

So, you’re lying to yourself if you think all college experiences don’t revolve around alcohol at least once in the course of 4 years. Now, there are some exceptions to the rule, people do remain alcohol-free, and I respect that… but that’s not where this story is going.

Some of the best stories I have or have heard revolve around a night of debauchery, and some of my best life lessons have come from booze (not in a bad way though… well, technically in a bad way, but anyway…). Most people have experienced ‘that night’ where they get a little too carried away with their boozin and happen to, well, to put it simply, they happen to puke everywhere. It happens, its a way of life. Don’t be embarassed if you have. If you haven’t and you think you’re going to get away scott free, you’re running away from the problem while it is sprinting towards you… and it’s faster than Usain Bolt. It’s coming.

I thought I was going to be cleared forever, I never puked in High School, always managed my alcohol responsibly and carefully. That is until the second week of my Freshman year (go figure). It was Labor Day weekend, and my roommate (Wheaton for those of you keeping track) had gone home to see his girlfriend/football team. One night, probably Friday, the gang from first floor (Chatham, CS, DumbKid, Owasso, her psycho boyfriend, and a few others) gathered into one of our rooms. We all had our own poisins, mine happened to be some cheap vodka, probably McCormik or something nasty like that.

Now, I had had about 4 or 5 shots of that right off the bat, within the first 10 minutes or so, so I was off to a good start. Chatham and Dumbkid had a bottle of Bicardi Gran Melon, and I really didn’t like the plain rubbing-alcohol taste of my vodka, so I switched some for some. Dumbkid gave me about 5 shots for 5 shots, and I drank that up nicely.

So, for those keeping count, that’s about 10 shots in roughly 20 minutes, maybe 25. Anyway, time had crept on and we were about to head outside to our outdoor Rec Field, which was right near our dorm. I had had another 2 shots before this (that makes 12 in about 35), and as we were leaving Chatham has a bottle of gatorade mixed with their Gran Melon. There were about 2-3 shots mixed in, and he wasn’t going to drink it, so I downed it just before we left.

All of this totals to approximately 14-15 shots of either plain or gran melon vodka in about 45-50 minutes. Now, my time may be skewed because I was so drunk, but we’ll say under an hour. We proceed out to the field, stumblin and bumblin, and I start the drunk dials. I would digress and talk about drunk dialing, but I think that’s another good talking point, so I will save that one.

After drunk dialing my roommate, and some of my friends from back home, I ventured out to the middle of the field where everyone else was. Once I got out there, I was there for no more than 2 minutes when I had to make a B line (or an I line as it should be more properly called, thank you DC) to the side where a railing was.

As soon as I get to that railing, I lean over it and puke all in the grass/dirt. I don’t know the amount of time I was there, but my friends confirm it was about an hour or so. I pinned it at about 20 minutes. At one point the short annoying kid with little man syndrome came next to me and was crying about something. I asked him like I was interested, and as he started to tell me, I started puking again, thus erasing my memory of anything he had said.

Eventually, Owasso and her boyfriend walked me back to our dorm, gave me some ibuprofen and a bottle of water, and I was away in dreamland. Woke up the next morning feeling absolutely fine, and that was the end of my first puking experience.

It only takes one to realize how much you hate doing it, but I did experience the feeling three times more in my existence, and we will eventually get to those. The most important piece of information I took away from this experience was how much puking can affect your taste for alcohol. After that night, I can barely even stand the sight of anything artificially watermelon flavored, let alone the smell or, god forbid, the taste. This has happened several times with other alcohols in the next 2 years of my existence. At this point in my life, I can’t really even stand the smell of liquor. Luckily I still love beer.

Point of the story… everyone pukes from drinking eventually. You can’t escape it. Accept it. It makes you a better person (don’t quote me on that). It’s socially acceptable in the college world. As long as you don’t do it on someone (purposely) or in someones car (as, purposely). Shit happens, and friends will get over it.

Just don’t get drunk and make out with their girlfriend…