Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Self-Indulgent Long-Ass Travelogue: College Edition

Riding a unicorn pony on a chocolate rainbow? Nope, not better than drunken jackassery in your college town. - The Foggy Dew


I spent my weekend in North Carolina, attempting to drive, embracing my collegiate guyness and engaging in bad ideas and drunken jackassery with this guy, who was kind enough to invite me to stay with him.

In case any of you were wondering, this is what it’s like to have me around for forty-two straight hours:

Friday:

Hey, where do you live? Really? I had an internship there, I totally know where that is. Whee, it’s fun to drive! Vroom! Beep beep! And I’m playing the awesome road game, “How Big Is Your Penis,” where I’m estimating size in reverse proportion to the macho idiocy I’m seeing all over the road. That guy puttering along in the Chevette? His little buddy's so big it's riding shotgun.

On second thought, where do you live?

How about if I just call you when I get to Durham, put you on speakerphone, and you can be like my Ghetto GPS? What if I figure it out on my own, get to your apartment, and call you asking why you haven’t answered the door?

What if it’s because you’re across town and had no idea I was there yet? But your door is unlocked? Really? We totally wouldn’t do that back in DC. Somebody would steal my crack pipe.

Of course I have a crack pipe.

Dinner? Mexican food? We need our Third Amigo for this one. Margarita, on the rocks, salt. Rinse. Repeat. Then beer. And Wii bowling. And drunken Spongebob Squarepants Operation. Wow, the beer isn’t doing much for my motor skills.
I’m losing, badly. Why yes, I do have an appendectomy scar. (Please God nobody ask in the comments why that statement is relevant.)
Saturday

What a lovely day! Well, except for the pounding hangover. Sure, let’s go visit our friend Heath at work. He manages a pizza restaurant? I like pizza!

You know what else I like? Rum! I’m so glad you brought a flask to the game. Yay, football! OK, so, if I know we’re playing badly, then it must be really bad. Man, that Virginia Tech guy is annoying. Can I beat him with my crack pipe?

At the bar, should I be a cougar and troll for college boys, or get in barfights instead?
Sure, let’s go to Ham’s and have beer for dinner! We really ought to take a cab home instead of driving. That way, we can both have beer!

Aw, you bought me a blue cup at He’s Not Here! Best present ever. Thanks! You rock.

You want food food, not beer as food? OK, Peppers Pizza it is! Hooray! Pizza two meals in a row. Huh. Maybe we really ought to be hailing that cab.

Sunday:

It’s 3:00 am. We’re on the sofa and the only things left on TV are infomercials and Skinimax.

Could you please tell me why you passed out on me? As in, ON ME? I’m squished and immobilized. Dude. What do you weigh? You weigh more than you look like you weigh. You sleep like a rock and weigh the same as a boulder.

Seven hours later…

Good morning! No, I don’t remember if we paid the tab at Ham’s. Call Cridge, tell him we’re drunken jackasses. He says I paid the tab? Go, me! I’m a feminist with finely honed math skills.

Do I even want to know what the tab was?

Of course we paid the tab at He’s Not. Right? You paid cash.

We paid cash at Pepper’s.

I’ll give you a ride back to your car. Can we stop at Waffle House first? What if I don’t want to turn left? I’m sick of turning left! Why can’t I go right?

What if I yell, “RAMMING SPEED!” every time I accelerate? Hey, what would happen if I hit the brakes and the accelerator really hard at the same time? Think I could take that white Subaru in a fight? How about that minivan?

Here’s your car! Bye!

OK, the open road, just me and my rental car. Man, I hate this car.

I totally forgot the Mexican leftovers! I could have had a chicken burrito for company. And I bet the burrito has better pickup and handling than a Chevy Cobalt.

The penis game has gotten dull. Let’s figure out which idiots could impregnate me with their stupid macho driving. Oh, this guy who cut me off in the Canyonero totally just knocked me up with triplets. Sure, it’ll be rough, raising three babies on my own in a studio apartment on a secretary's wages, but I can totally do it.

What I can’t do? Figure out where the rental car drop-off is in National Airport. I swear I’ve done two laps, cut off four hotel vans, and used up the whole tank of gas.

OK, I’m home. Here’s the Home Arrival Verification Text! Have fun in Dublin, and I am going to sleep for the next fourteen hours and hate anyone who ever suggested I should go to Chapel Hill for a low-key relaxing visit.

12 comments:

Lemmonex said...

Driving...no thanks.

I could eat pizza for lunch and dinner almost every day. Thin crust for lunch, deep dish for dinner (for variety).

Shannon said...

Lem - The lunch pizza was fabulous. I don't recall the dinner pizza having any sort of flavor...well, except for beer flavor.

Justin said...

This blog entry is just so awesome :) I can't tell if the writing makes it so good, or it's the parts that make me go the "Wow, I wish my weekend were that exciting even if it resulted in hangovers and other 'fun' stuff"

Regardless, I'm glad you had a fun weekend :)

Justin said...

Wow, I just noticed the Canyonero reference. That was hot.

P.S - I really want to give you the keys to my car just to hear you say RAMMING SPEED! No, I have not been drinking.

Shannon said...

Justin - is it a stick shift? If so, count me in.

Except that I can't really drive stick shift. Except that I sort of can...in college, FoggyDew would rope me into being his DD. In his five speed Dodge Shadow. I'd run the wheel and the pedals, he'd shift gears, and it was a successful trip if we only stalled out twice.

FoggyDew said...

Ahh, memories. I wonder if SWI (shifting while intoxicated) is against the law in NC?

Shannon said...

Foggy - I seem to recall an incident in which we stalled out directly in front of a cop, and you slurrily explained that you were teaching me how to drive stick.

Not as funny as the bicycle cop who told me not to litter as I stumbled across Frat Court, at the tender age of 17, but still, it was pretty good.

Pollo Loco said...

Don't forget you tried to help me sober up by pouring water down my nose.

Shannon said...

Pollo - Somebody's messing with me, because I would TOTALLY remember doing that. Though it does sound like the sort of thing I would come up with...

pollo loco said...

well 40% went into my mouth, the other 60% trickled up into my nose

Shannon said...

...Mom? Is that you?

pollo loco said...

The day your mom blogs is the day I sprout wings. Say hi to her by the way.