Monday, May 11, 2009

[GM]Dave: The College Years 2

So, the story I am about to tell you is entirely true. No facts will be embellished or exaggerated for the sake of comedy.

I tell you this because there is no way in hell anyone is going to believe this actually happened.

The very first Friday of the new semester, the dorms got together and sponsored a non-alcoholic dance for all the freshmen. It was a big event for all the new students and, because many were underage, there was absolutely no alcohol allowed.

At all.

This, of course, meant everyone just got really drunk BEFORE the dance.

Really, really drunk.

This is how I met a girl named Robin.

No, this isn't going to be one of those stories. My "random girl I hooked up with in college" stories are classified for national security reasons.

Robin was new. Since pretty much everyone was going to the alcoholic non-alcoholic dance, she decided she would, too.

She, however, did not want to get drunk. She decided early to only have a couple of drinks.

Side note: you'd be surprised how reasonable drinks 3 and 4 look after drinks 1 and 2.

Still, she doing an admirable job of drinking responsibly. She looks a little past her limits, but not grossly so.

We let it go.

Then... Her boyfriend called.

Her boyfriend back in her home town.

Any of the women in the audience may already know where this is going.

They had a fight. Something about him not trusting her and her leaving him behind, blah, blah, blah.

You know what's fun? Trying to look casual while sitting in the dorm room of a girl you barely know while she screams into a phone.


Anyway, she hangs up the phone and any hope she had of maintaining control of her drinking goes flying out the window.

She also succinctly explained that her boyfriend had inappropriate relations with his own mother who was also a bitch.

I'm paraphrasing, of course.

Drinks 3 and 4 were quickly followed by drinks 5 and 6.

5 and 6 apparently called for reinforcements because they were following by drinks 7 through 12.

She may or may not have done a shot of drano.

Pretty soon, she was drunk. Messy, sloppy drunk.

It wasn't pretty.

Then, after waiting what they thought would be a non-awkward amount of time, everyone headed out to the dance.

Robin's cousin (whose name I can't remember) decided to stay with her in her room while they all left. I, having absolutely no interest in a "dance", figured I'd hang out.

A smart person would realize they were way too drunk to go to a public function like that.

Luckily, she wasn't that smart. It would have been way less funny.

About a half an hour let, Robin suddenly jumped up and told us that she would be going to the dance. She said it with such strength and conviction, you could almost not notice the amount of wobbling she was doing.

Robin's cousin looked to me for help.

This, it turns out, would be a mistake.

Rather than discourage her, I took it upon myself to get that girl out of the room. College is about learning new things and I very much wanted to learn exactly how far she'd make it across campus before she passed out or died or whatever.

We left her room and, while her cousin (Ash? His name may have been Ash) locked the door behind us, Robin hugged me and professed her love for me.

Robin>> I love you, Malcolm.
Robin>> You... You are my best friend in the whole world.

My name's not Malcolm.

And I'd only met her a few hours before.

I, being a gentleman, detached her from me and leaned her against the wall.

I, being an asshole, laughed as she slid down the wall and slammed into the floor.

Ash (We're going with Ash now, by the way) tried to talk her out of it, but Robin couldn't be swayed. She was going to that dance.

We took her to the stairs and then realized there was no way in hell she was going to make it down those stairs alive.

We did the only thing we could do... We carried her. We each grabbed an elbow and lifted her off the ground so we could carry her safely down the stairs.

Ash, again, pointed out that it might be an idea to go back upstairs.

Robin, attempting to prove how not drunk she was, tore free from our grasp and ran down the stairs.

I will give her credit. She made it down 22 stairs perfectly.

Unfortunately, there were 23 stairs left.

On the very last step, her foot slipped or her ankle twisted. Basically, it looked like she went retarded for just one stair.

That's a bad thing.

She fell directly onto the concrete floor on her knees and, if that wasn't bad enough, smashed the door with her face.

I don't mean hit. I mean smashed.

Her face hit the push bar so hard, the door swung open.

This, obviously, meant there was nothing holding her up. She then fell forward smashing her face on the floor.

Then the door swung back and cracked her in the head.

I'm not even kidding. This all actually happened.

Ash ran down to try and help her. He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her up to her feet.

Do you know what's great when you're sloppy drunk? Your balance.

Robin pitched forward so hard that she crashed to the floor again and Ash fell on top of her.

This girl was wrecked.

I imagine someone watching this should have felt very, very bad.

Should have.

Not so much.

I did feel a little bad for Ash. After I helped him drag her back to his room, I left him to the task of getting her sober.

I later found out, "getting her sober" roughly translated to "cleaning up vomit all night."

You know, I never really spent a lot of time with Robin after that. First impressions being what they are, we didn't bother getting to know each other very well.

I probably would have forgotten what she looked like.

Luckily, if you looked hard enough, you could make out the imprint of her face on that door handle.


At 7:51 PM, Blogger Daniel said...

She lived all that?

Damn, kind of impressed. I'd think after 12 shots, tripping, hitting a door, hitting a floor, being hit by a door, and hitting the floor again she would be on an episode of House or something.

At 8:08 PM, Blogger Bufuman said...

Ah, stories of getting hit in the face. Brings back memories. Like the first time I ever got a bike with a handbrake. What was supposed to be a short test of said handbrake ended up being a short test of how easy it is to clear one's own handlebars, followed by a short test of how well my face holds up when it connects with solid concrete at about 10 miles per hour. Those last two tests had good and bad results, respectively.

At 5:37 AM, Blogger Winterhart said...

Damn. I bet that was one spec-fucking-tacular hangover, huh?

At 11:11 AM, Blogger Conscript said...

A had to be there retelling told amazingly by the only one who probably recollects anything that happened that night. Truly a masterpiece.

At 5:12 PM, Blogger Leut said...

Getting wasted on that many drinks is what I call "just getting started."

Excuse me...I have to look up the time for my next AA meeting....

At 12:27 PM, Blogger Mistress Stowastiq said...

"-This, it turns out, would be a mistake."

Above is my favorite anticipatory GM Dave passage. So far I have never been disappointed.

As for this being the first College Years post I have read, I am impressed with how much of a -nice guy- you are. I am surprised, however, that no one tried to take advantage of the drunk girl. Being that my college years were far from participating in any activities that involved drinking, I assumed drunk girls always got taken advantage of. Yeah I am naive.

At 11:15 PM, Blogger Lambeke said...

ROFL, man I laughed hard at her opening the door with her face and "not being supported anymore" fell on her face ..then bonk from door. Thanks to your writing style it was all so easy to imagine.
Keep it up 'Malcolm'..u made me smile.

This made me laugh because i too dislike people, unless shown why I should'nt.

At 11:53 PM, Blogger AlphaMaelstrom said...

That one's fucking gold. Classic Dave.

At 2:35 PM, Blogger Camille said...

this is a very realistic story, Dave. you've just described nearly all the girls from my freshman year.

you know the type.. good girl back home.. dopey drunk mess as soon as she gets 3 feet out the door...

got a real kick out of that story..wish i had time to tell you about the girl across the hall from me my freshman year that broke her back falling off the roof after doing the can can the night of the tequila party.. now THAT.. was a night to remember..

oh, the glory days..


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