Meeting My Blackout Self

This is so ridiculous I just had to write it down right away.

Ok, so last night was an innocuous Friday at Babson; beers were killed, rum was pounded, and 151 was the nightcap. The parties were beyond terrible. One place we went to had three bros, two of whom were wearing the exact same American Eagle white polo, who were talking about all the people they wanted to fuck up. I assume the night ended with them just fucking each other instead.



Johnny Appleseed’s friend from home is a freshman at Babson and was hanging out with us. She is pretty cool, but this was basically the first time we all actually hung out at night. We were planning on waking up early today to drink before the soccer team’s NCAA playoff game at 11, so she decided to just stay over so she could wake up and start drinking immediately with us.

As I mentioned earlier, 151 was our nightcap. That seemed really smart at the time, but even as I write it, I can’t get over how retarded and useless that is (maybe as much as the deep south rednecks that explained why they aren’t voting for Barrrrrrrack Hussein Obama in the earlier video). I ended up losing my dinner before bustling off to bed.

I awake a few hours later to the sound of urine spattering on the floor. Johnny’s friend is sitting in my chair.

Me: “What the fuck? Are you peeing?”
Her: “No.”

I am still pretty drunk and was just asleep, so I believe her.

Me: “So what’s up?”
Her: “Cash budgeting”
Me: “What?”
Her: “Cash budgeting was on the exam”
Me:”What the fuck are you talking about?”
Her: “But it doesn’t really matter, though. It’s Thursday night, we have the whole weekend ahead of us.”
Me: “You are hammered drunk. You need to go back to bed.”

I think that’s the first time I have ever had the presence of mind to be the one telling somebody else they are too drunk and need to go to bed. I have had it told to me pretty much biweekly, but this was the first time I uttered those words. Instead of leaving to go back to bed, she jumps into mine and immediately passes out. While I’m still in it. My bed is fucking tiny and I do not share it with anybody ever, but she was already asleep as soon as she hit the ridiculously soft mattress (yeah, I got that tempurpedic pad mothafucka). I decide that she will eventually wake up and realize she is in the wrong bed, so whatever. It eventually happens and she leaves, but again goes into the wrong room and another suitemate guides her to Johnny Appleseed’s couch. When I woke up this morning I turned on the light and took a gander at my chair. My jeans had been draped over it and there was a circle of urine on them. When I picked them up, I noticed that the entire top of the chair was covered in piss.

AAHHH. That is disgusting. However, I cannot get mad, seeing as I have done that to two different girls…and to myself once. So to sum up, I caught a glimpse of what it’s like to deal with me sometimes. It’s mindboggling. I don’t like it. And I will take no actions to correct it. The payback was long overdue, but I can’t complain. It’s still kind of bullshit that I had to face the reality of my actions even a little bit. Fuck you God.