WRITTEN BY: Superman
Saturday night started out like any other drinking, partying, night; buying alcohol. CA and I head to the bank to get cash and then the local liquor store a block from the apartment.
We arrive back at the apartment around the same time as BM and TF. And the drinking begins for those two. They start drinking and getting ready for the night. They had gone out to buy some “Jersey Shore” type outfits (button down shirts, sweater vests over and short shorts) and I must say, they looked good.
But the trouble began when CA couldn’t find his championship football ring. We all tore apart the room looking for it but in the end there was no sign of it. CA immediately went into what we refer to as a “superman” since I always get into depressive pissed off moods over the littlest things. He went to lay down and listen to his Ipod for the next hour in a half as the rest of us started pounding alcohol. I’m about four shots in of rum and coke (one glass) and start watching Blue Mountain State. For the next hour or so, TF, BM, and I bullshit about life, women, and our meaningless football careers.
BM’s friend and two chicks show up and start drinking with us. By now I’m four glasses in (between 12-16 shots) and am slowly starting to feel it. One of the chicks is dating BM’s friend, but the other one was single. She was good looking, but to be honest was buff even for four football players. We all talked for a while, mostly BM catching up with his friend. I snag a peak at buff chicks cleavage which she allows to bountifully hangout.
We head to the bar up the street. Nothing special happens in the whole block away that the bar is.
CA and me head over to the 21 plus line while the rest of the group for some reason jumps into the under 21 line. I have a few cigarettes in line giving me an even more buzz. Some chick standing next to me smiles and eye fucks me, but it could’ve been a death stare since I was blowing smoke in her face. Oh well, no sweat off my back.
As CA and I enter the bar we see buff chick and a couple of the others heading back to the apartment. I say screw them.
We get inside and immediately start saying our hellos to everyone we know. Random people come up to me and say hello. I ignore most of them, I don’t know you for a reason (this is mostly men by the way). CA asks if I want a drink so I say rum and coke. He hears vodka and coke. Who the fuck mixes vodka and coke?!
Doesn’t matter. While we’re waiting for the drink an ex friend, Christian aka Cfagg, tries talking to me. I ignore him.
[Side note: There is an important reason why I’m not friends with that faggot anymore. He was a dick to my friend who he dated on and off for a while. When I say dick I mean he called her a slut, hussy, whore etc.. and pushed her once. I love women and will not tolerate that from someone so I am no longer friends with him. That and the fact he is a lying whiny bitch who I’m pretty sure has a vagina, but I haven’t checked and don’t care to.]
He talks to CA for a few seconds and suggests we all take shots. I continue to ignore him, take my drink and begin to walk around. I take the first sip. FUCK ME.
It all comes rushing to me now. 16 shots plus more to drink doesn’t go over to well with anyone, and although I have a strong tolerance, even I have my limits. Ten minutes later I give my drink to CA and tell him to hold it because I’m done.
This bar is no bigger than a three bedroom apartment. When you take that and add 250 college students inside, the heat tends to rise. That combined with the added alcohol sent me to a familiar place; the bathroom.
I start to puke in the sink all the while staring at my reflection in the mirror. Some football friends of mine laugh at me from behind; fuck them. We’ve all been there. CA tells me its time to go home and I’m not gonna fight it.
I grab a hold of CA’s shirt and am pulled through the bar, stumbling, bumping, running over a few people. We get outside and CA tells TF that he’s got to take me home.
The second I see the stairs to the apartment I sprint for the bathroom where I immediately strip and jump into the shower. I spend the next 40 minutes puking, turning the water from hot to cold and back to hot again (I was trying to sober up but I wasn’t about to sit in an ice bath-did enough of that in football).
After the shower I throw my pants back on, grab my pillow, blanket and trash bag and head to the living room where I immediately pass out in the corner.
I wake around 6 am to CA and TF talking on a mattress a few feet from me. I’m sober enough to talk. They inform me that BM scared off Buffgirl and that he was passed out in the bathroom after drinking till 5 am with cheerleaders he wanted nothing to do with. That’s alcohol for you.
I head to the bathroom but stop just short when I see a giant pile of puke all over a pillow and the floor in the bedroom.
SM: What the fuck happened?
TF: BM puked all over the floor.
SM: When?
TF: A little while ago.
SM: That was my favorite pillow!
We all head to the bathroom where BM is passed the fuck out, curled in a very familiar position by the toilet. We now have a dilemma; BM’s friend’s GF needs to take a piss, but BM won’t move. TF and I start to wake him and move him into the shower so she can at least let go of her urine. This was the weirdest BM has ever been when drunk.
We managed to get him on all fours but thats where he wanted to stay. He didn’t wanna go any further. The following is some things he shouted as we tried to move him:
BM: Don’t touch me! Let me sleep!
SM: Chick has to piss.
BM: I’m tired.
SM: Get in the shower for a second so she can pee.
BM: You get in the fuckin shower!
BM: I’ve already been in the shower!
BM: Don’t fuckin touch me!
BM: I’m a hundred a fifty percent!
SM&TF: What?
BM: Fuck you.
We finally manage to get him in the shower only for him to take another shower. After ten minutes he gets out, heads into the bedroom, somehow avoids his own puke on the ground, and passes out in TF’s bed.
TF: No BM not in my bed!
Too late. He’s passed the fuck out again, soaking wet, in nothing but boxers and is using the wet towel as a blanket. At least he’s asleep again...
I head back to my corner in the living room and pass out again. Another saturday night for the books.
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