[You mothers were lying when they told you weren't dense toolbags.]I'm not sure when shit hit the fan but just get comfortable. You will be shocked. You will be disgusted. Fuck it here goes:
Sometimes the fun goes bad, real bad, real fast. A few months ago we set off to Berkeley to visit friends and get out of the city for a hot minute. Big mistake: we should never have left. We're always down for experiencing a good story to tell others about later and we promised our friend we'd come back with one. Oh, we had no idea what was coming our way.
Elise, Madeleine, Mary and I get to Berkeley around nine or ten. Mary goes to hangout with a friend of hers who is in a sorority at Berkeley. The three of us go to Elise's friends house and are hanging out and drinking a little. In no way were we drunk enough for level 10 awkwardness we were going to be put in.
So Mary's friend, Lacy, invites us to a frat house, which we think is a frat party or some shit. Whatever, when in Rome right? So we head over to a frat named FIJI. Seriously talk about walking into a situation completely blind, this is it. We walk up and the guy who answers the door is wearing, I KID YOU NOT, a shirt that says "I Heart Vagina." RED FLAG NUMBER ONE. We should have left right then and there.
Getting inside of this frat mansion we realize this is NO regular party. Apparently it is something called a "social" were it is the members of one sorority come hangout with the members of one fraternity. So put yourself in our shoes. Elise, Madeleine, and I were the biggest fish out of water in the world, and we're not anti-social people. Mary fit in a little better because she'd triple barrelled her hair and her so-cal up-bringing gave her some shelter.
So everyone there knew each other and knew we weren't suppose to be there. One guy comes up to me in the hallway and barks, "HEY! How did you get in here." I'm like, "I climbed through a window."
He, of course, believes me and thinks it's badass. (Whew) He invited the three of us into his room, where in order to handle this situation we get properly shit housed. We're taking vodka shots out of plastic jugs like were back in high school. Throwing one back every thirty second and doing hail-marys in between that we make it out of this god forsaken house alive. Elise goes to the bathroom and actually over sees a girl look her up and down and say to a friend, "I guess they're letting anyone in tonight."
LET ME BE CLEAR: My girls are gorgeous. Like knock-outs. Sure they're not always the classiest but I'd take them over these Forever 21 clad sorority sluts, who will end the night with one herpes infected fraternity dick getting pounded in each ear, while they puke their brains out in their Coach bags.
So this entire time, I have been ducking in and out of rooms trying to sneak shots in and seem invisible. I mean think about it, atleast Madeleine and Elise are girls, but I thought I'd be throw out by the collar at any second. (Wait, remind me again why were still at this house? I'm confused. Maybe it was the free alcohol.)
All of a sudden it all goes down, like a scene straight out of "Toolbag Academy" or something. Elise, Madeleine, Mary, and I are walking through a well lite hallway that had maybe 10 other people in it. There are 3 frat guys standing there and one of them just starts talking shit to Madeleine. About what she's wearing, asking her who let her in, telling her she should go back to Telegraph Street (implying she looks homeless.) I immediately get the scene from the OC season 1 in my head where Ryan gets beat up on the beach and told to go back to Chino. Seriously are we back here??
Thinking that I'm the guy that they'll go after and pounce on like a pack of fucking wolves, I leave down the stairs mid-fight. (I know, I know, what a knight in shining armour.) When you hear what happened next you'll be glad I saved my own life by leaving when I did. I get to the bottom of the stairs and find a huge empty living room with big leather couches. In my head revenge came out in the form of me peeing all over every couch in the room. To this day I am thankfully that no frat guys walked into the room while I was doing that, because I would probably be paralyzed from the waist down.
Meanwhile, upstairs Madeleine isn't taking any of this guys shit. She goes "Jersey" so fast on him, he had no idea what this blond chick had in store for him. Let's note that he was wearing white shorts, with a purple mesh jersey and trying to call other people out on their attire. Bitch, please. Then the guy has to go and call her a bitch, why do you have to go and do that stupid frat boy? He exits into a room and Madeleine goes right after him, taps him on the shoulder, and when he turns around, she drenches him with a big glass of tequila, orange juice, and Sprite. Sticky shit son.
He is fumming, that a woman would dare stand up to him. His first reaction? He grab Madeleine and puts her in a head-lock and holds it for about five seconds. Wait, is this really happening? Real tough putting a girl in a head lock you fucking dumbass. At this point I'm outside frantically smoking a cigarette until the girls get outside and explain what happened.
At this point we're wasted and PISSED. Elise, bless her soul, takes it upon herself to take a shit on this frat house's front steps. And no, she didn't just squat and drop real quick. Home girl posted up for a solid fifteen minutes before she could unleash her steamy goop all over their steps. HAHAHA, excuse me but these are the moments that convince me if I ever had a reality show it would be the best one out there.
Just as Elise is finishing up, I go over to grab the girls' purses which are laying on the sidewalk next to a cup of tequila and Sprite. By the time I turn around with the purses in hand, a very serious female police officer is about 4 inches away from my face. Uh oh, the conversation went something like this:
Lady Cop: What's in you cup over there?
Me: I don't know that's not my cup. (Deny, deny, deny)
Lady Cop: Don't lie to me. You were just holding that cup.
Me: No I was just grabbing their purses for them.
Lady Cop: How old are you?
Me: 19 babe.
[Mistake: Never, ever call a female officer "babe." No matter how cute you think it is. Fastest way to question their authority.]
Lady Cop: Don't call me BABE.
Me: I'm sorry MA'AM. It's a term of endearment coming from me, OFFICER.
The girls seeing how I'm digging myself into a hole and falling fast, cut in and start ranting about how Madeleine just got assaulted in the frat house that we are STILL standing outside of. The Officer with an air of disbelief and disgust tells us to just get home. One trip to the drunk tank averted.
The rest of the night was filled with ranting about the events to every Cop we saw on the way home and a solemn vow to never return to Berkeley's frats: land of 2 inch dicks and egos bigger than Kanye West.
Thanks for sitting through it. I feel about 5 years older just writing this and will probably find 3 new gray hairs on my head.
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