It was like the Hangover minus the tiger, Mike Tyson and a baby.
I awoke the next morning after what was my first time drinking in a long time, and immediately remembered why. My head was pounding like the SWAT team at the door, and I was sweating like a whore in church. After she hooked up with the entire congregation.
I felt like a bag of fecal matter, and tried falling back asleep, only to lay staring at the Megan Fox poster on the wall. The TV was left on blaring full volume, and even though it was one of those awful court shows, I couldn't possibly be bothered to shut it off. I don't know how he does it, but Scrappy managed to stay sleeping well into the afternoon, despite the commotion.
My plans were to leave today, but all last night, the boys were declaring there was no chance of that, and that I was staying another night no matter what. I couldn't turn it down, as it was too much fun, and there was no way I was going to hitch feeling the way I did. It was like I had a fat kid sitting on my head while Nickleback was on repeat. My brain hated me.
Once the boys are up, you know it. No one knocks. Ever.They kick the door as hard and loud as they can.
Once enough were up and stumbling around, asking what happened the night before, we went to the cafeteria to grab some greasy eats. Stepping into the sunlight was a swift kick in the pants, and only made the headache worse. Squid swiped me in, and the caf was like a dream. It was full buffet styles with the good ol' American eats. The food was just short of an orgasm in the mouth, and I filled 2 plates with bacon, eggs, links, rib sandies, random meat, more random meat, fruit punch and a banana. If my stomach wasn't so full of cheap beer, I would have cleaned the place out.
We chowed down, laughing at the previous evening events. It only got funnier when we had to face the females.
You can tell everyone on campus had a good night; the bags under the eyes, hoodies and sweats, and cups of sugar juice. It was like a commercial for Advil.
We slothed our way back to the house, and it was time for a movie, as brains and bodies couldn't handle anything more. Several cigarettes, Gatorade and a Will Farrell comedy later, we were back to our normal selves. People kept entering the room, asking the evening festivities. Imagine it didn't involve a repeat.
A hot shower never felt so good, and Tonk took me with some of the boys to Quiznos. If you go to Quiznos hungover, get the numero 4, it was like eating 8 inches of heaven. With bacon.
We mowed the subs down, and wandered back to the house. I was falling into the lifestyle the lead and began to felt comfortable, something I try to desperately refrain from while travelling day-to-day. Its easy to get caught up in comfort zones, or familiarities, and these guys reminded me alot of home, yet somehow differently better. I hate to say it, but I was like some sort of celebrity. I had people all day everyday coming up asking if I was the hitcher, and shaking my hand. It was cool, but not my goal. I wanted to use hitching and my wild ways to inspire them to follow their wild ways, and to a degree, I think I did. Certainly for some.
We started to get our things together and crack a few coldies. After I tied the infamous t-shirt to my head, we were ready to dip, and walked through campus to the 'student ghetto'. Pauly's house was your typical off-campus housing, complete with movie posters, stolen signs and stained carpets. We watched the Olympic opening ceremonies waiting for the girls to show, tapping into the kegs. Pitchers and cups poured as we watched the Canadians do their thing, and I was secretly appalled at how little they knew about Canada. I honestly think I knew more about American history than they did. We were all pretty shocked at the Georgian Luger who had passed that day, and the video footage was terrifying. Vancouver did justice, although only because they spent the entire budget on the opening, and forgot about a chunk in the luge track.
Time for some more beer pong. Oswald and I were up on Travis and Shatner the sniper, and they came back to win it. Drinking card games, and some fist pumping tunes, the girls finally showed up to balance the abundance of wiener in the house. And balance they did, loads of girls in Uggs and straightened hair came through. We played a few rounds of flipcup while the Beastie Boys, Daft Punk and Black Eyed Peas held down the beat patrol. It was a good night. We drained the 2 kegs, and partied like it was 1999. I was taken upstairs to the invite-only blunt session, and chilled with a bunch of the boys. We smoked a Philly styled baseball bat and watched karate on TV. Time flew by, and by the time we opened the doors to the haze, the music had stopped, and the mood was dying. I went to grab a last beer when a hot blonde girl came up and introduced herself. I had talked to her for a minute before, and she was one of the few girls who could hold a conversation without using 'like' every two minutes. I cant remember what I was talking about, but she just said she was going to kiss me, and did exactly that. I remember her leaning in, and not even knowing her name, but I was at the point I had forgotten my own.
She asked where I was heading, and told me it didn't matter, as I was going where she was. I just went with it. I'm not acting like it was a struggle, but I had some weird mixed feelings about it. I don't know. Who am I kidding, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to.
Lauren took me back to Sigma Sigma Sigma sorority house, also known as Tri-Sig. It was straight out of Legally Blonde. A massive colonial house, with ivy terraces and painted shutters. The front hall was a massive grand staircase lined with photos and empowering messages. It was very neat and tidy, and the photos on the wall had girls in pearls, and perfect hair, perfect teeth. The epitome of American Sorority, and they loved it. I was lead upstairs to a room so pink, I swear Pepto-Bismol had exploded violently. Everything was pink, fuzzy, lacy, and neatly decorated. Pictures of past parties and David Beckhams lined the walls in between Abercrombie ads and cliche flower ornaments. They had elaborate closets full of clothes, and handbags out the backside. It would make any girl jealous, but girls, don't be. They had the brain capacities of a 4 year old. Lauren was definately alot cooler in that dept. Whitehouse was also in the building, and was throwing up some seriously drunken acts us young kids these days call 'cockblocks'. (excuse my vulgarity, blame hip-hop and MTV)
Once he finally stumbled out the door, lights went out.
It had been a good 'last' night at Widener.