That Weekend

July 22, 2005 at 7:22 AM | Food, Good Times, KSU, Site/Personal | 1 Comment

Well, here is that post about a weekend already long gone (May 5-7). I really should have gotten this one out much sooner, but I’ve just been distracted with things like finals, graduation, going to concerts, drinking myself silly, moving, and most importantly not having a reliable internet connection to work with. I may have already told a lot of you these stories, but dammit you’re just gonna have to hear them again.

So anyways… I’d like to start off with Thursday night, which is really when this series of tales begins. It was Cinco de Mayo so the bars were pretty packed, people going nuts everywhere. It was an alright time… the whole time I was wondering why we celebrate Cinco de Mayo here. It’s almost as big of a sham as St. Patrick’s Day, another worthless holiday in my opinion. Just thinking about it pisses me off. I can’t really go into the exact details of the night, but I can tell you that I lied about my name to these people that we were hanging out with. I had so many aliases that night: Corey, Adam, Jonathan… I really can’t picture myself as any of those names, but then again if you know me, why would you? Afterwards, I drove out to Wal-mart and bought some of those delicious 99 cent spicy beef and bean chimichangas. I think I also bought something else too, but I was too drunk to remember. Anyways, I was back home, eating this chimichanga downstairs on the poker table, when Jeff comes home and tells me that he was planning on throwing a party this weekend. I was like “alright” and continued eating. There wasn’t a whole lot of notice. I’m not sure if Pat’s or Lawson’s absence could have been circumvented, had I known about Jeff’s intentions earlier in the week.

I had a 541 presentation to give at 10:30 Friday morning. It was a miracle that I made it to that thing. It was pretty easy as usual, and at long last, we were finally done with that damn project. Just the 541 final exam and I’ll be officially done with school. Well… I guess, there is that GEOL125 “final” too, but I calculated that I could miss about 16 problems out of 48 and still keep an A. So yeah, I’m not too worried about. I spent the better part of the day before that final re-playing Resident Evil 4, because I want that infinite ammo rocket launcher! That and eating. I bought a chicken and made some stuffing, ate some potato salad. Had a grapefruit… I might have busted out a can of corn, too, I don’t remember. As a side note, I am really starting to like canned corn. Like… it is starting to surpass canned green beans… something that I thought would never, ever happen.

OK, let me get back to the weekend.

So Friday night rolls around. Um… it was another night faded away into the drunken haze. But this time, we hung out with this girl that Aldie knows, named Jessie. She’s pretty cool, so I didn’t lie to her. Also, for some reason, I felt like I had already met her once before. But you know sometimes when you meet certain people in certain situations, you never really expect to see them ever again. Going into a meeting with this kind of mindset does not permit one to easily retain these people into long term memory. But this time, I had a feeling that I would remember this girl, at least for the night. We went around to 3 bars, and I had been in loose contact w/Sut-loc the entire time, but finding a central location to meet in Aggieville was something that was not accomplished that night, unfortunately.

It was around this time that I came up with this grand plan to spend the days all the way up to the Geology final in one long continuous drunken haze. It would be brilliant.

So finally Saturday comes around. I had every intention of pitching in some money to help Jeff get the (3) kegs, but I simply had no cash on me. None. So I’m sitting around, just kind of hanging out. The time went by so quickly… I was working on putting together a mix CD, when 9 o’clock snuck up on me. Where did the time go??

I threw on some clothes and as I went to put on my belt, the thing breaks. The buckle snaps clean off. I was pretty fucking shocked. And saddened. Because now I was going to have to resort to my old belt, which I was never really too fond of. Oh well, it gets the job done. I thought it ironic that just a few days ago, I had posted about my belt. Maybe it wasn’t even ironic… maybe it was just peculiar. I’m not really sure if I have a firm grasp of the concept of irony or not.

I went out to Wendy’s to get some food. I’ve been digging the spicy chicken sandwich and small chili lately. And everytime, they ask me if I want to make it a combo. No, I don’t want it as a combo. There’s a reason why I didn’t get the combo. OK, so yeah I bring this food back and try to eat it in the red light from the Christmas lights. It was difficult, I’ll tell you that right now. But, I got ‘er done. How could you not, when the food is so good?

I even called up my cousin at KU to come over. It was a good deal because I’d never drank him before. Not really. I mean, there was this one time where we were drinking and he was passed out on the floor and I was sitting there watching TV, only mildly involved in drinking games with his college freshman friends. They play their drinking games with an entirely different set of rules! Although I must admit, it was rather amusing to witness/re-live the days of underage drinking once again. Things were so much more exciting back then. There was a certain thrill to it all. Those were the good ‘ol days. But don’t get me wrong–thank God I’m 21 now.

Speaking of underage drinking, here’s a little episode that happened at the party: it’s not even that late into the night yet and the place is starting to fill up with people. A lot of people were hanging around outside so I would occasionally go outside to see what was going on, mingle with the people. So one of the times that I stepped outside, I looked around and saw Barry talking to Sam (not my roommate) outside. Sam has this big ass jug of red wine with him; you couldn’t miss it. I headed out there to see what was crackalacking. They seen my shirt, and naturally the conversation shifts to Radiohead. Radiohead and then Pink Floyd for a while, and then back to Radiohead. I don’t know the first thing about Pink Floyd (I know like 2 of their songs) so I was glad to be done with Pink Floyd and I kept interjecting little comments in hopes of swaying the conversation away from Pink Floyd. And then… all of a sudden, a bright light flashes on Sam’s face, originating from somewhere behind Barry and I. A female police officer emerged from the direct flashlight beam.

She grabs a hold of Barry’s drink and takes my beer. “How old is everybody here?”

“22,” said Barry.

“21.”

We all kind of looked at Sam, expecting his answer, but he didn’t say anything… he just brought his cigarette up to his lips and took a drag. Nobody had to spell it out, we all knew what was about to happen.

The cop spelled it out anyway: “Uh oh… somebody not 21?” The flashlight remained on Sam’s face.

“I’m 18,” he confessed.

I was shocked. Even if I had known that he was underage, I would have thought that he was at least 20. But 18? Ah yes… those were the good ‘ol days.

The cop saw the enormous jug of red wine and laughed. “What is that?” she asks while leaning in to confiscate the alcohol. At this point, I am feeling pretty comfortable because I know that the heat was going to be on Sam and not myself. I mean, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but you know cops, they can bust you for distribution to minors or having an open container, even when you are on private property. The fuckers.

This police officer, the one who took Sam away for what I assumed was going to be either an MIC or an MIP… well, she was pretty hot. I didn’t want to say anything though. There was enough heat on the situation already, I didn’t want to fuel the situation any further. Also, I might not have said anything even if she wasn’t busting up the party and taking away people that I know–the only line I got is “heeey.” No game whatsoever.

Everybody on the front lawn had moved inside of the house when word got out that the police were there. And then, naturally, the flow of people went towards the back yard.

I couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for what had just happened, even though I really didn’t cause it. I went out back to check things out. There were these guys climbing the deck and fence to try to move a large amount of random tree branches to burn. I saw this go down but I didn’t even want to know where they got those branches. Barry was on the deck yelling n shit over the rail. The light was right behind him so you couldn’t really see who he was. But if you knew Barry or if you’ve even just heard Barry, you would have instantly known who was up there. Our deck isn’t really the safest thing to be on, especially for a person of Barry’s size. So I went up there to convince him to come down, like one of those cops talking a jumper out of commiting suicide. I was unsuccessful. Had Barry really been a jumper, he would’ve died and the blood would have been on my hands.

While I was on the roof, I saw some kids sitting on the roof; one of them was pissing off of one of the edges onto the neighbor’s alley. I didn’t want to see that kind of shit going on. I yelled at those kids and made them come down and then promptly instructed them to “get the fuck off my goddamn deck.”

Off in the distance, I saw Sam coming back up to the house, slouching. Getting an MIC is a huge downer, I’m sure, but he tried to play it off like he didn’t really care. I could tell that he was upset. Staying at the party probably wasn’t going to help.

The party progressed until late into the night. When things started to wind down, I went upstairs to see why my light was on. Aldie was sitting on the couch, with my bag of Doritos in hand. There were chips all over the floor. I swear to God I was finding chips in weird places all the way up until the day that I moved out of that house. Also, he had busted open this large package of individually wrapped instant black sesame drink mixes and I found those packets everywhere too. I really have no idea how the hell he did all this or why in God’s name would he do something like this.

But yeah, Sam’s run-in with the police, the people treating our house like a goddamned hotel, and now this… everything had been pretty upsetting the entire night. I snapped and blew up on Aldie, yelling n shit, getting violent. I was angry to the point that I was seriously ready to kill the motherfucker for what he’d done, despite our friendship. It was actually the combination of my anger, being really drunk, and the upsetting events of the night, that I screamed out some shit that I didn’t really mean… things like “I’LL KILLLL YOOOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKERR!!!” I can’t think of the last time that I had ever been so pissed off by something or someone.

Sabrina had been in Sam’s (my roommate Sam) room, because he needed help finding his way back to his bed to pass out. She came out and asked me to calm down and asked me what was the problem.

“THIS MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE FUCKING ATE ALL OF MY GODDAMN DORITOS!!!” Yes, I know. On paper, the whole incident sounds pretty fucking silly. I can’t even tell someone about this part of the story without providing enough background details to justify my behavior that night. And even then, it still sounds like I’m crazy because there’s no way that I could provide a sufficient amount of background to make the incident not totally taken out of context. But I can try:

You see, this isn’t the first time that he’s done this kind of thing. On no less than 2 separate occasions prior to this one, Aldie had invaded my room, ate all of my Doritos and gotten away with a clean break. But this time, he’d crossed the line. The next day, like I said, I was finding chips all over the floor. I guess he had even tracked in a bunch of dirt and all these weird sphere looking seeds/spores that were all over the floor as well. And! And he had drank some of the pickle juice from my jar of pickles in the mini fridge. I know this because the lid was open and I know Aldie loves taking swigs of pickle juice, vinegar, and the likes. It was one thing to trash the house, I don’t give a fuck about the house, but to come up into my room and fuck with my shit, that was uncalled for.

Aldie left and I remained bitter for the remainder of the night, muttering under my breath and cursing about Doritos. Just writing this post brings back those same feelings and is one of the reasons why this particular post has taken me so long to finish. That and the fact that it’s long as fuck, too.

Anyways, I guess later on, I was wandering around yet again and on one of my rounds, I came across Jeff, who reported that we had just received a ticket for noise violation. I was like “WHAT!?” because the whole thing was ridiculous… at that point in the night, we probably had about 20 people left at the party. How could we have possibly received a noise complaint? And even if someone actually called in a noise complaint, shouldn’t we get a warning first? What gives?

It turns out someone did call the cops on us. And so I guess they had “no choice” but to give us a ticket? And the bitch was like $90! Whatever. I guess we would just split up the cost of the ticket amongst us 4.

Now, 90 doesn’t really divide by 4 too evenly, in case you didn’t notice. But it was something that had to be done and I was willing to live with it.

A solution arose the following Monday night. I was getting ready to head out to get some Gumby’s with Tony and Christy, when someone started knocking at the door. I went to answer it and there was this girl with glasses standing outside. She was our neighbor. She explained to us that on the night of the party, some guys came by her place and asked if they could borrow her pool (one of those plastic kiddy pools that you set out in your yard, fill up with your garden hose). She said “no,” so they left. But apparently, later on they must’ve come and taken it away regardless of what she had to say about it, because it was gone now. I was highly amused by this story but I failed to see how I was related to the whole ordeal. I was like “I don’t think we have your pool… I guess I can check and if it’s out back I’ll get it back to you…” I went and checked but did not find a pool in the backyard, which I was sure would be where a bunch of drunkards would leave a kiddy pool. I asked Tony if he knew anything about the pool. He did not. I apologized to the girl and told her that no, we didn’t have her pool and good luck on finding it. This wasn’t good enough for her. She held us personally responsible for what happened.

So yeah, you remember how I mentioned Barry was on the deck? Well, I guess he came down later on his own accord. I guess nobody fell off the deck or roof. But I mean, if someone would have fallen off, would we have been responsible for that shit? Fuck no! Or at least, I sure hope not. But the pool? I KNOW that we weren’t responsible for that shit, no way.

Her ultimatum went like this: “Either put a check for $10 in our mailbox by next week or we’ll call the police.”

I was like “Uh… OK, I guess I’ll discuss it with my roommates. Seeya.”

We talked it over and I guess we just decided to cut her a $10 check, even though none of us thought we should have. I would have been way more against this course of action, but it made an even $100. Well, it turns out, Jeff never wrote her the check so I guess that girl never called the cops. It also means that Jeff has some of our money, too. That punk.

Oh yeah. Sunday night, I got the full story on the noise violation incident. Apparently, the complaint was about someone yelling upstairs. I’m pretty sure that narrows it down to me. But who knows for sure?

1 Comment »

RSS feed for comments on this post.

  1. Marissa…

    My friend would die laughing if he read that….

    Trackback by Carbon Alloy Steel Forgings — July 20, 2006 #

Leave a comment

XHTML: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>


Pool theme design by Borja Fernandez, modified by LloydSkoyd.
Valid XHTML and CSS.