A few weeks ago my sorority had a Night Uptown AKA we took over the bar and charged everyone to come in that wasn’t a Clio. The supposed lure of such an event is the opportunity to speak with the hot sorority girls that you couldn’t talk to on a regular day. At the door you are greeted by a smiling face. “$3 cover. (Thank you for your alcoholism that drives you to drink on a Tuesday night) Do you want to sign up for the free beer pong tournament? There are cash prizes (Do you want to spend more money inside on beer in a tournament you probably won’t win?) Thanks! (Thanks for giving us your money!). Just kidding, we love everyone.
A few minutes later my beer pong game came up and I was playing with Quazi, another sister. Generally in beer pong I rely on my hours of practice, ability to read my opponent, natural talent… and most importantly the hope that my competitor is much drunker than I am. Unfortunately Quazi and I had been paired up with the Venus and Serena Williams' of beer pong. They ceremoniously marched up to the table, took their respective spots and carefully analyzed the length of the table and the wind velocity created by the breathing in the bar. Quickly, efficiently and savoring every moment, they beat us like a husband beats a wife who was late putting dinner on the table. Lacking any form of retribution we consoled ourselves with the fact that at least we had gotten a bit drunker.
A little while and a few Alabama Slammers later, Crackey arrived with 2 of the guys from across the hall, StomachCancer and DP. StomachCancer and DP couldn’t get in so she came in alone and hung out with me and D00sh while the other two went to the bar next door. That’s another point about Geneseo. Although the college claims to put forth their best effort to minimize drinking there are 7 bars in walking distance of campus, as well as a 24 hour convenience store that sells beer and 2 liquor stores. That’s like putting Michael Jackson in Disney World and telling him not to touch any children.
After a while of talking to my sorority sisters, I realized that I had lost Crackey. I looked around for her and suddenly she stumbled out of a crowd. I was about to ask her where she had gone when I noticed the strong smell of permanent marker. I glanced at her hand and noticed a huge X indicating the treasure of her being underage at the bar.
Crackey: Listen to this story… I was with D00sh and he offered to buy me a drink. So I went to the bar with him and he ordered a vodka and cranberry. The bartender said that there was only a little bit of cranberry left. He told her not to worry about it and said that I wasn’t picky. Meanwhile I was sitting to the side gazing dreamily at D00sh while leaning on the bar with my hand under my chin. The bartender looks at D00sh and asks “That girl sitting over there? The one with the X on her hand? Next time tell her not to be a dumbass and put her hand on the bar.”
It takes a lot to be that stupid, trust me I’ve tried. A perfect example of the reason people think college students are drunken idiots. Thanks a lot Crackey.
10 minutes later I look at Crackey and she’s engaged in her favorite drunk activity - talking to older guys. This guy was special though…he could’ve been her grandfather. Imagine Colonel Sanders crossed with Pope Benedict in a BBQ sauce stained “USA” shirt and a brightly colored 1992 jogging suit. Then imagine him drunk at a college bar hitting on a 19 year old girl. The laugh was too good to bother with intervention.
Eventually I ended up losing Crackey to D00sh again, so I decided to go search for some entertainment of my own. Leaning on the pool table I saw this guy (DonkeyPunch) that had messaged me through Facebook and asked me about my picture, which is me in “Angry Pirate” underwear. Despite the dorkiness of meeting through facebook, he was hot. My pick up line:
“So…are you the angry pirate guy?”
For those of you who are unfamiliar with ‘the angry pirate’, it is a sexual act in which a girl is giving a guy a blow job and he kicks her in the shin and jizzes in her eye, causing her to scream in pain. This results in the overall image of the girl hopping around on one leg, covering her eye and screaming “ARGHHH”. I exude nothing but class.
I begin talking to him and it turns out that he’s not as much of a pervert as our initial Facebook conversation or his Donkey Punch sweatshirt implied. (Donkey punch = doing a girl in the ass and then punching her in the head so she passes out and her ass muscles contract…don’t you love the classy people I associate with?)
So this guy and I are clearly flirting, you know the typical touchy feely conversation and the feigned interested look that ultimately says I’m paying attention to I can drunkenly screw you like a cheap hooker later tonight. Amidst this college mating ritual I suddenly feel an arm around my waist, but both of DonkeyPunch’s hands are in view. “Risa…whats up?”
Me: (through gritted teeth) StomachCancer, get off of me
DonkeyPunch: (awkward look)
StomachCancer: (to random guy walking by and pointing to me) I’m gonna take this girl home tonight and fuck her in the ass!
This is a verbatim quote. No exaggeration. The look of utter horror on my face must’ve made me look like someone really had unexpectedly stuck it in my ass. I don’t think anyone has ever cockblocked me worse than that.
I decided to dump StomachCancer on Crackey and D00sh, and walked back over to DonkeyPunch and apologized for my intoxicated friend. He told me it was ok and asked me if I was with StomachCancer. I spent the next few minutes trying to convince DonkeyPunch that he wasn’t my boyfriend/hook-up buddy/ghost of sexual past, but it’s hard to recover from a cockblock as bad as that. I remember thinking that I hoped he wouldn’t take StomachCancer’s statement as an invitation to try the ‘donkey punch’ on me.
By this time it is almost 2 am and I am past very drunk and a beer short of being black out. Diana buys me a drink and the next thing I remember I’m walking to the pizza place with Crackey and StomachCancer wondering where the hot guy went. Crackey informed me that I told her I didn’t want to hook up with him tonight. That’s what I get for not being able to move on from past “relationship” shit. Because of that I decide that I needed to talk to Luci. I have a severely awful tendency to drunk dial him when I have absolutely no logical reason to. Unsure of what to say when he picks up, I go with the obvious conversation topic. “Hey do yuh wannah take art classes wit me next smester?” Just what everyone wants to be woken up and asked at 2 am. Sometimes I wonder why he doesn’t get a restraining order or file a harassment law suit on me when I do this whenever I’m drunk, which is most days of the week.
When we get to the pizza place a drunken StomachCancer offers to buy me pizza. Since he cockblocked me worse than a bad case of genital herpes, I accept his offer and make him buy Crackey a slice too. Plus I was regretting my decision not to go back with DonkeyPunch and think StomachCancer’s cockblocking subliminally influenced my decision. As we’re sitting down in the booth DP suddenly appears and tells me that he hooked up with my sister’s (as in sorority) sister. For some reason I am doubtful but listen to his ramblings about the hot chick he hooked up with, just like I do every time he comes back with the same story.
We finish up our pizza and begin the treck back to the dorm and head into the boys’ room as soon as we get back. Crackey, StomachCancer and I jump into bed with Davey in an awkward attempt to create an orgy. A few seconds later I go back to my room and pass out. Then Crackey runs in and tells me that StomachCancer fell off Davey’s bed and split his chin open and was being taken to the hospital. Karma is a bitch.
Moral of the story: Don’t cockblock your friends or the college hook-up Gods of karma will punish you.