As far as I can tell, my college experience was pretty standard. I attended classes sparsely, drank my weight in Milwaukee’s Best each weekend, and I remember more from the football games than from my lectures*. Through all of the drunken keggers, the football tailgates, the costume parties, and the dorm room blowouts, I have racked up a pretty significant count of memorable stories**. However, the story I am about to tell you is special. This is a tale of friendship and of overcoming the odds. This story, is the story of my first night at college:
*From what I can tell, the most marketable skill that I picked up was a familiarity with Microsoft Excel, which now dominates my life. For that, I’m tens of thousands of dollars in debt. At least I went to a public school.
**Some of them I even remember.
Bart: It was a bright, hot day in the Outer Banks. I walked barefoot, even though it burned the soles of my feet. It did not matter, as I had already met Jose upon waking up at 8:30am. Mr. Cuervo and I got nice and riled up, real early on this day. The hot day became a muggy night. After several hours and several more tequila shots, I found myself with a few others on our way to the hot tub. In the middle of a 90-something degree day. Among my companions was Eli.
Eli: I’d been packing the car for hours and the work was finally done. After a week of non-stop drinking, I was looking forward to clearing my head, and my blood stream. In less than 12 hours, I would have to round up a van-full of my belligerent housemates and begin the journey home. Everyone else would still be drunk for our sunrise departure but that wasn’t an option for yours truly: the designated driver. Nothing would feel better than a hot tub soak on a hot evening to help the detox process.
What’s wrong with me? Well, a lot actually. I’ve been to the doctor for this, this, this, this, and this, Eat your heart out HIPAA. I also didn’t poop once for three straight weeks, which probably explains why I like taking pictures of my feces whenever I can. But that’s another story for another day.
The first few months of dating someone are never easy. It’s the time in the relationship when you’ve already laid pipe, yet still know absolutely nothing about one another. As perfect as this may seem, there are many other complicating factors. You have to ease away from the person you’ve been pretending to be, while slowly allowing them to realize you are not actually the kind of guy that opens a gal’s car door – “Yes…I did that to get to your goods.” Another complicating situation we’re all familiar with comes at the point when you’ve slept together once or twice and your penis starts to excrete that green slime.