May 2005

In college I had That Gay Friend. He was some kid who I used to know from elementary school or summer camp, some shit like that. He threw many parties at his conveniently located apartment, at which I was a frequent and always uninvited guest. It was the kind of party where even I had a decent chance of hooking up, because let's face it, if I am a drunk college slut hungry for action and I'm at a party where there is exactly one straight dude there, do you think I would give a shit if the dude is a little weird or socially ackward? Probably not. Many of the best college tales of my last two years of school took place at ThatGayFriend's house. Including one incident where my buddy SurfGangsta showed up, and disgusted by the guest list and the host's party hosting ineptitude, he found a spare refrigerator laying around in the hallway, and shoved it down five flights of stairs, shaking the building's foundations in the process. Why I rolled with people like this, I have NO idea. It was college. But that's for another story.

Two co-conspiritors and attendees of all ThatGayFriend's parties were a pair of girls who I had been good friends with from freshman year. They were known around campus as The Trouble Twins, Mandy and Mary. One time, they finally recognized that I was quite the cool guy to have around, so they put me down as an invited guest, for once, for a big end-of-semester bash at their apartment. With my brain sufficently fried from writing 20 pages of final papers in a span of two nights, I was beyond stoked for this party. Many of the top sluts in my class year were confirmed in attendance, and I got set for a nice night of free booze. This party likely had more random and unexpected appearances by old friends from various points in time than any other party I have been to. This was the apeothesis of my social scene, and my performance here could make or break my status heading into senior year. A failure could result in some uncomfortable times ahead.

The night started out good, with me drinking, doing more drinking, and chatting with Mandy and Mary on topics such as the new season of Family Guy, and various post-graduate plans (You know that point in college when no one will shut the FUCK up asking you the same questions about what you're doing next year, "after we graduate"). This one girl, "Raven", was even interested in talking to me about more serious issues, like what my plans were after the party. I later learned through careful interrogation that she had slept with half of the guys in my freshman dorm. But not knowing that at the time, I was more than happy to be among that half. Then, out of nowhere, my friend "RollerKingdom" showed up. And as usual, he came with a sizeable entourage, all guys. These guys loved me, but at the same time loved to see me drink and act a fool. The subsequent entrance of some old friends proved for their perfect opportunity.

The one other girl from my high school who went to the same college as me came in with her whole entourage, as well as my freshman year neighbor, the eccentric "Famguy" and his entourage. Famguy had wit like a bullet, and a penchant for making huge comedic scenes. He also had a tendency of taking practical jokes and pranks waaaaay too far. His opening comment, spoken loud and proud in a Richard Simmons-esque feminine voice: "So, it's my former gay lover. Haven't seen you in awhile. C'mon darling, why don't you come over here and plant me a nice big kiss?" I resisted as long as I could before he thrust himself towards me, and continued to make jokes about my resistance in his Simmons falsetto. I had to shove him as hard as I could before he finally got the picture that I wanted no part in his shenanigans. ThatGayFriend, who was watching this scene, was very amused. I was not.

Once that bit of entertainment was over and done with, I went over to see how my high school friend, "Chica", was doing. However, I was quickly interrupted by RollerKingdom, who had some questions of his own.

RK: So, what was Scotty Dukes like in high school?

Chica: He was cool. He was really normal though. He didn't drink.

RK: NO fucking way. Scotty Dukes did not drink?

Chica: Not really. He just studied a lot, rapped and did drama.

RK: Like, theater drama? NO way. This can't be the Scotty Dukes I know.

Chica nodded to confirm that yes, that was me then. RollerKingdom then attempted to show her what "me now" was like.

RK: Are you like that now Dukes?

SD (ME): HELL NO!

RK: Do you drink now?

SD: Hell yes

RK: And like a champ, I might add. Should we show her what's up?

SD: Hell yea.

At which point Rollerkingdom, always armed, pulled a can of piss-quality Natty Lite out of his pocket, used a knife on his keychain to poke a hole right in the center of it, put his finger over the hole, and handed the can to me. A bit of beer squirted right into my face before I realized where he was going with this, and covered it with my finger just in time to avoid a waterfall on my chest.

RK: Shotgun this beer right now bro!

With Chica, her whole entourage, and others including Raven and the rest of the RollerKingdom Crew watching, I obliged. Call it peer pressure, but with beer steadily squirting out of the hole and onto my shirt, automatically making it stink, I had no choice. I put the can up to my mouth, uncovered the hole, and chugged as fast as I could. I was about halfway to the bottom when I realized something: I just ate a full footlong chicken parmigiana sub less than two hours before (which BTW, is NOT a good call before doing any kind of drinking), and it was coming up fast. I had just finished the last drop of this swill before I felt the first chunks of puke hit the roof of my mouth. The storm was coming, and there was no place to place it.

I surveyed the scene, and carefully considered my options. I looked back towards the bathroom. The line to piss (or in my case, destroy the toilet) was almost out the door. I looked for a garbage can nearby, but to no avail. At this point, I considered making a run and gun out to the street, but the rocket in my mouth made it apparent I would not make it in time and splatter my brains all over some unlucky partygoer. At this very second, the host Mary came into the room. Having been on the other side of this scenario multiple times in her college career, Mary saw the look on my face and instantly knew what was going on.

Mary: Sink! Run!

She pointed towards the kitchen sink, which was two rooms, and a large crowd of many people, away. I immediately ran through the crowd, to a couple confused shoves from guys not knowing the dire straits of my situation. There was a couple making out in front of the sink. I pushed them out of the way hard and let loose in the sink. Before my first round of puke had cleared my system, every single person at the party was staring at me. It was just past midnight, and the party was near its peak. My reputation was ruined.

Mary and Mandy immediately ran over to me to lay down the law. They would have to wait a few moments, as the second and third waves of chicken parmigiana coursed their way out of my mouth and into their sink. Then:

Mandy: Out of my house! Now!

SD: Listen I'm sorry. I had too much to eat.

Mary: Get Out Of My Fucking House!

SD: You can't do this to me! I'm a legend.

Mandy: GET THE FUCK OUT!

At this point, an unknown male companion of the Trouble Twins grabbed me by my arm, and started to lead me out the door. I did not even have time to find my jacket, which was still inside. I would never see that jacket again. On my way out, I heard a disgusted yell from behind me:

Mary: Oh no he didn't...

Mandy: It's not clearing

Mary: HE BROKE THE FUCKING SINK!

I had no idea it was physically possible to permanently break a sink just by puking in it. However, when it comes to my luck and my stories, the laws of physics need not apply. If there is something imaginable that can happen to make a situation worse, it WILL happen, hell or high water. When I talked to Mary the following fall, she told me that sure enough their sink was still non-functional, without giving a precise reason. The official explanation? I guess I'll never know. Go figure.

So back to the story, the Trouble Twins' male companion led me to the front door, shoved me hard, and slammed the door in my face. I would never see the inside of that house again. Given that I was still a few months from turning 21, and this was pretty much the only party going on in the vicinity, I decided that it was a good idea to try and sneak back in unnoticed. Given my reputation as a weekend warrior, I am never one to just go home and give up on a night. However, my strategy did not work very well. Every person that exited the front door had been given clear instructions not to let me back in. Some kinder souls offered words of support such as "Sorry dude" and "That sucks, man". But ultimately it was to no avail. Just as I was about to throw in the towel though, a very special guest exited for a cigarette break. It was Raven the slut, and I had a conversation to finish. I just walked up to her like nothing had gone wrong.

SD: So, as I was saying earlier...

Raven: Umm, what's your problem?

SD: Nothing at all, just chilling. Nice out here.

Raven: You just puked, and you broke their sink. They're not allowing you back in.

SD: I know. Whatever. Shit happens. Why don't you just stay out here and chill with me.

Raven: I can't. My friends are all inside.

SD: So what. Fuck em'.

Raven: I was gonna make out with you, but my God am I glad I didn't. I hate the taste of puke residue in my mouth. Sorry kid, maybe another time.

Only in college