I haven’t been keeping a proper journal since, well, nearly a year ago. But last night certainly deserves a journal entry, at the very least. This might end up pretty long. Here we go…
It was pushing 10:30, and I still didn’t have anything to do, all but seconds from watching “Snatch” for the second night in a row. But just then I found Mike in the lobby - he had begged me to drive him to a party last night, but we watched movies instead - I asked him what he was up to.
“Going to a party.”
“Oh yeah, where at?”
So I had plans. We hung out in Aaron’s room… a guy that lives down A-wing, hangs out with the guy with really spiky green hair, and gave Mike nine dollars for seemingly no reason last night (though Mike thought the Crystal Meth might have something to do with it). Just short of 11, our ride came (Rich and Alex), and the three of us crammed into the back of Rich’s tiny BMW something-or-other. I was a bit nervous at the start, Rich going 55 down the 30mph Claflin Hills, Alex with an opened Keystone Light. I would have to get comfortable with that kind of thing to make it through this night. And I did. We stopped by their University Commons apartment to get some of the other people, Steve, some others? The placed smelled of weed and Taco Bell, not necessarily that unpleasing of an aroma.
We piled into two cars and sped to Todd St. (one block north of Claflin) to a party in a small house. It was extremely packed, $2 bottomless cups for the 9 keg party. Mike and I hung out near the ladies’ restroom line, (Mike can talk to anybody like he’s known them for 10-years, not always a blessing, but not bad otherwise). We met a few girls this way… later a couple girls from Colorado… Matt Lower showed up a good two minutes before the cops showed up. He’d paid his two bucks for his cup and damned if he wasn’t going to tap the keg before he left. It took a good ten minutes for the police to make a difference in the number of people, so we headed out too.
This time we stopped over at an apartment on Fremont (just behind Tony’s old apartment on Laramie). The apartment had those big wooden outdoor staircases with aisles down the facade on each level ala motor hotel. The front staircase was crammed full, as was the topmost aisle. When I got to the top, I saw a girl that looked a lot like my ex-girlfriend, Angie, but she wasn’t looking up, but rather down at the keg… I stared for many many seconds, but couldn’t be sure.
Then I saw a second girl that looked exactly like the first, so I knew. I went to say hellos… and then went off to scope out the rest of the crowd.
I met a really cute girl with a “Bong” sweatshirt, named Erin, who said I had Brad Pitt’s cheekbones and blue eyes. I loved her. I’ve often thought the same… to myself… but never would have said so. I loved her. Angie came over and introduced her new boyfriend, Joe. Soon thereafter, Matt Lower showed up again… and less than five minutes later, so did the cops. Quickly the party once again dispersed.
One of the guys in our party grabbed a big brick and smashed it into the cop car’s windshield, but I don’t think it did much to the bulletproof glass. So off we go again, looking for another party. We cruised up and down the ghetto (east side of campus, where Bryan and I have an apartment next year). Surprisingly little was to be found there.
The others hit up some Dara’s convenience stores, lifting a bunch of beef jerky, porn mags, and 12 $6 bottles of weight loss pills with ephedrine and caffiene (legalized speed, they assured me). We stopped over to the Candlecrest apartments (also near where Tony used to live). There were several smallish parties going on there. So we hit three of them, entertaining about an hour.
As we were leaving a bunch of huge black football players showed up. One of them was hanging off the passenger door of a big Ford truck, lost his grip and pulled off the sideview mirror, to which everyone around fell to the ground laughing. We went back to University Commons, where another party was going on. Pierre, another guy who was driving now, decided he didn’t need to use the roads, and instead started driving all over the sidewalks and in the courtyard between the buildings, narrowly missing staircases and apartment kitchen windows. Lots of fun. The party was kind of lame - I recognized a couple of guys from the baseball team that I’ve never really liked, and the girls weren’t all that attractive. Anyway, we hung out for quite a while and then returned to Rich’s apartment, still smelling of marijuana and now Burger King.
Here they hatched their plan to not only drive in the courtyard, but to race multiple cars through there. Aaron got the camera ready. Some of us went back to the party to wait and watch. Now there were some cooler people at the party. I saw Bruce from my freshman linguistic anthropology class and kinda-sorta met this hot girl Heather, who was playing drinking games with the rest.
So Mike and I sat for … well, we were tired, so there’s no telling.
Eventually we got bored enough to go see if we could get a ride back home, being nearly 4 a.m. by now. We finally talked Alex into driving us back, and on our way out I spotted a cop car patrolling the Commons. I mentioned this, but it didnt seem to matter. He took off on the sidewalk, peeling out, driving narrowly through two rows of bushes and finally jumping off the curb right in front of the police. He turned right, then sped another right into the parking lot of the next apartment complex.
“The reason I’ve stopped you this morning is I witnessed you driving along the sidewalk. Is there any justifiable reason for you doing this?”
So the testing commenced, breathalizer and all. The officer took Mike and my driver’s licenses, to keep us from running off, I suppose. Ten minutes later, Alex gets back into the car, gives us our IDs and we’re off again. He says he can’t drive us home, but he didn’t get into any trouble. He blew a .069 in the breathalizer (the state limit is .080), and since he was 21 they really couldn’t do anything but ticket him for driving along the sidewalk with his lights off. I just wonder what other illegal drugs they’d have found if they were thorough. So we go get the other guy, Pierre (probably equally intoxicated), to drive us back to Marlatt, which went much better. Bed by 4:30.
So anyway… that was my very long night. And my very long and relatively uninteresting account of it. Now it’s time to go lose a softball game. Later.