I love college - Page 3

On February 24 2009 17:45 SoLaR[i.C] wrote:
During my time at UCSB, I had countless odd, hilarious, drunken nights. There is one in particular though that sticks out in my mind:

Thursdays in Santa Barbara are "Student/Local Nights" and all the college kids make their way to the numerous bars and clubs on State Street. This particular night happened to my good friend P-Bon's birthday. Thus, he decided it would be a good idea to go sake bombing at a local sushi restaurant before going out clubbing.

During sake bombing we got some special deal and ended up running a $800 bill just on booze between about 6 guys and 6 gals. We were clearly shitfaced already, but decided to hit up the nearby irish pub, and then go to a club so we could get our terrible grooves on.

I remember ordering 2 shots of whiskey and this is where things started getting fuzzy. I remember looking across the dance floor and seeing two saucy chicas dancing with each other. I figured this was my best bet to get laid and went over. This lasted a good while and eventually heard the last call echoing throughout the club. So I excuse myself and try to find my friends only to find them gone and my phone out of batteries. Additionally, I can't find my fucking ATM card and am completely out of cash.

I walk up and down the streets furiously trying to locate the bus that usually drives all the drunken students back to Isla Vista (the adjacent UCSB college town) but to no avail. I can't hail a cab because it's goddamn near 3AM and I have no money and can't call my friends.

Thus, I walk into a 24/7 donut shop, grab two old-fashioned chocolate donuts (mmmmm....) and start running back to UCSB. One problem, it's ~15 miles and can only be reached by freeway...

So I run onto the on-ramp and start hauling ass in the shoulder/running in the slow lane when the guard rail pushes me too close. Cars are honking furiously at me and flashing their high beams. All the time this is going on, I feel pretty good and for some reason think running a 1/2 marathon is a viable way of getting home on a 0.3+ blood alcohol level...

Anyway, after making it about 3-4 miles a car comes too close for comfort and am forced to run amongst the tall grass and weeds on the other side of the railing on the shoulder. After running in the weeds for about 100 yards I fall in a deep concrete ditch and my leg starts bleeding through my now ripped pants. I stumble on in agony alongside the freeway.

I can only make it a bit further and start to hobble because my leg hurts like a son of a bitch when I hear a honk and a car pulls up behind me. It's a taxi. Some guy yells out to me "Look you drunk bastard! There's CHP right behind me, and if you don't get in this goddamn van right now you're going to jail..." I promptly hop in try to explain what I was trying to do. He looks and me and shakes his head is disapproval.

When we get back to Isla Vista I finally tell him I have no money and he's furious. He says he'll drive me to an ATM so I can get some cash to pay for this $38 cab ride. I intentionally stear him toward an ATM machine that about a half mile away from my house. I start to walk up to the ATM and I book it the other way. He gets out and starts chasing me. Fortunately I'm pretty athletic and the adrenaline is kicking in because of this 40 year old Middle Eastern man who is chasing me. I hop a few short fences, run through some parks, down an alley and into the safety of my front door.

It's damn near 7:00am and some of my roomates are in the living room getting ready to go to work and their friday morning classes. They crack up after I told them my night. I pass out on the couch and don't wake up until 5pm.

Definitely one of my more epic nights....

On February 24 2009 17:45 SoLaR[i.C] wrote:
During my time at UCSB, I had countless odd, hilarious, drunken nights. There is one in particular though that sticks out in my mind:

Thursdays in Santa Barbara are "Student/Local Nights" and all the college kids make their way to the numerous bars and clubs on State Street. This particular night happened to my good friend P-Bon's birthday. Thus, he decided it would be a good idea to go sake bombing at a local sushi restaurant before going out clubbing.

During sake bombing we got some special deal and ended up running a $800 bill just on booze between about 6 guys and 6 gals. We were clearly shitfaced already, but decided to hit up the nearby irish pub, and then go to a club so we could get our terrible grooves on.

I remember ordering 2 shots of whiskey and this is where things started getting fuzzy. I remember looking across the dance floor and seeing two saucy chicas dancing with each other. I figured this was my best bet to get laid and went over. This lasted a good while and eventually heard the last call echoing throughout the club. So I excuse myself and try to find my friends only to find them gone and my phone out of batteries. Additionally, I can't find my fucking ATM card and am completely out of cash.

I walk up and down the streets furiously trying to locate the bus that usually drives all the drunken students back to Isla Vista (the adjacent UCSB college town) but to no avail. I can't hail a cab because it's goddamn near 3AM and I have no money and can't call my friends.

Thus, I walk into a 24/7 donut shop, grab two old-fashioned chocolate donuts (mmmmm....) and start running back to UCSB. One problem, it's ~15 miles and can only be reached by freeway...

So I run onto the on-ramp and start hauling ass in the shoulder/running in the slow lane when the guard rail pushes me too close. Cars are honking furiously at me and flashing their high beams. All the time this is going on, I feel pretty good and for some reason think running a 1/2 marathon is a viable way of getting home on a 0.3+ blood alcohol level...

Anyway, after making it about 3-4 miles a car comes too close for comfort and am forced to run amongst the tall grass and weeds on the other side of the railing on the shoulder. After running in the weeds for about 100 yards I fall in a deep concrete ditch and my leg starts bleeding through my now ripped pants. I stumble on in agony alongside the freeway.

I can only make it a bit further and start to hobble because my leg hurts like a son of a bitch when I hear a honk and a car pulls up behind me. It's a taxi. Some guy yells out to me "Look you drunk bastard! There's CHP right behind me, and if you don't get in this goddamn van right now you're going to jail..." I promptly hop in try to explain what I was trying to do. He looks and me and shakes his head is disapproval.

When we get back to Isla Vista I finally tell him I have no money and he's furious. He says he'll drive me to an ATM so I can get some cash to pay for this $38 cab ride. I intentionally stear him toward an ATM machine that about a half mile away from my house. I start to walk up to the ATM and I book it the other way. He gets out and starts chasing me. Fortunately I'm pretty athletic and the adrenaline is kicking in because of this 40 year old Middle Eastern man who is chasing me. I hop a few short fences, run through some parks, down an alley and into the safety of my front door.

It's damn near 7:00am and some of my roomates are in the living room getting ready to go to work and their friday morning classes. They crack up after I told them my night. I pass out on the couch and don't wake up until 5pm.

Definitely one of my more epic nights....