EPTWell, you see... I was what you call a "lightweight" the first time I went there. So I had a Jaeger bomb or three, and some wodka prior to leaving for house parties. There, I drank several more things I couldn't possibly recall.
I do recall the party that introduced me to BP. There I was, drunk as hell, standing at a BP table trying to figure out how the fuck to play, and asking everyone what was going on. Sometime later I walked over to the keg guy who was being a dick and wouldn't give me a drink. Eventually I was like "look dude, I've been here for way longer than most of these people, if you keep making me wait I'm never gonna get a drink." So, recognizing the solidity of my logic, he gave me a beer. Sometime at this party I blacked out.
I don't remember why, but I punched a window out (probably to prove it was possible to do without cutting your hand). Amazingly, I did not cut my hand while doing so (I honestly think that's pretty fucking impressive for a drunk guy). By this time I was absolutely shitcanned. I can only recall being dragged out of the garage by Ryan and Ben asking why the fuck I was being dragged out, as I had done nothing wrong. It was explained to me that I had punched out the guy's window, and they didn't want me to get blamed for it. I duck walked to the next place, which pissed you off, because was drawing attention to us and we were mostly underage. I explained that I had done a lot of hamstring work the day before, and it felt good for my legs.
Then we went to a bowling alley (I think that's what it was anyway), where I spent the majority of the time vomiting in the bathroom. I think I remember you guys saying you forgot about me, and left for a few minutes, then realized I wasn't with you and came back for me. I have no idea how much time had passed in that area.
I passed out at 9 pm. The drinking had begun at 5:30 or 6 pm. I awoke at 1 am, and had to piss worse than I have ever had to piss in my life. I walked down to where the elevators were located, and could not find the bathroom (I would later discover they were on the other side of the elevator). Still drunk from the battle I had with the previous intoxicants, I stumbled up and down the hallway for what felt like an eternity trying to find the bathroom. At some point, I gave up on trying to figure out where the bathroom was, and decided that, since no one was in the stairwell anyway, it was a fine place to relieve myself. I peed what must have been a gallon of urine, and soaked my sock in the process.
I stumbled back down the dorm corridor, and walked into someone's room. Whose it was, I couldn't possibly tell you, but there was a girl sleeping in the bed to the right. At this point, I realized I was not in the right place. I turned around and walked out, and some guy told me that was X's room, and I laughed quietly, put my finger to my lips and shushed him. He helped me back to the correct room.
I laid down again, figuring it had to be four or five am, because what was actually just three hours felt like nine. I looked to my friend's bed and noticed he wasn't there, and decided that I couldn't be a pussy and not have fun with everyone, so I called him to figure out where the fuck everyone was at, and find a replacement sock since mine was soaked in piss. After a short call, I walked down to Bax/Pohlk's room (I think), bottle in hand. I resumed the wodka drinking, realizing that I was ridiculously hungry. So, naturally, I asked if there were delivery places available. I was told Toppers delivered until four. I tried and tried to acquire their real number, but Pohlk was being a dick and kept giving me different cell phone numbers (this would ultimately lead to my downfall).
Frustrated, and in disbelief of my intoxication, I decided a McDonald's run was in order, and that I would be the one to make it. In spite of the strong advocation of said run, I began my journey. I turned the music down, the blue lights off, and clutched the wheel driving as straight as I could. I still think I was driving pretty well, because I wasn't that drunk, but nevertheless a dickhole cop pulled me over. I don't think details are all that necessary here, so I'll keep this part short. They tested me, eventually I'd blow a .09 at the station.
Terrified, I phoned the only person I knew in town, and asked them to gather money in a "keep Jon from anal rape" campaign (because a man's butt is the most important thing in jail). The cop drove me around from ATM to ATM until we realized that it wasn't the ATM having a limit, but my account only allowing a max of a $250 withdrawal. Several hours passed with no way of collecting money, and the police were growing somewhat impatient. The bigger dickbag of a cop suggested taking me down to the holding cell. My phone was dead, my account tapped, I was doomed, but I could easily cover the $1040 ticket if I just had a way to acquire the funds! Luckily, Ben knew the number of the police station and called to inquire about my location. I was there, and happy to hear a familiar voice. It was at this time that I devised the most incredible plan ever: Go to Wal-Mart with my debit card and buy candy bars. Then take out an extra $100 per transaction. The candy-bar-money, with the $250 (maybe $200, all in fives), and a generous $350 loan from Ryan I was saved. It was nearly 7 am at this point, and there was one thing left to do.... get some goddamn McDonald's. Finally, some five and a half hours later I arrived at McDonald's with an order nowhere near the hundred some McNuggets I was supposed to come back with. I played Ben in a game of NCAA '05ish, and (incredibly) lost, but quit before he was able to run the clock down (a small victory in my mind). I slept 'til four, and went home.
Three things to note about all of this 1) my parents still don't know it happened. 2) I don't have a DUI on my record, which leads me to believe that the paperwork was never actually filed, but pocketed instead (and I can't blame him.. there's no record that $1040 cash was ever in that station if he destroyed the documentation proving it). 3) If Pohlk hadn't been a cocksucker to start the whole thing off, the situation would never have arisen. Sure, we wouldn't have a crazy memory like that, but I'd have a fucking $1040 that I could have spent on ANYTHING else.
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Hope it was an enjoyable read. Reliving that time just now was both fun, and saddening at the same time. I miss my money the most.
P.S. Also, I think it'd be interesting to hear other stories of first time partying at college/uni. There have to be some gems out there with some of you guys.
P.P.S - I learned from that mistake, and no longer drive drunk. I set a limit on the amount I can drink when I go out, and typically stop drinking 2-4 hours before closing time so as to let the 2-4 drinks that I have work their way out of my system. If I have to, I get someone sober to drive.
