Friday Night Madness
What can you do against the lunatic who is more intelligent than yourself, who gives your arguments a fair hearing and then simply persists in his lunacy?
~ George Orwell
“What the Hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, why do you ask?” I said to Chris as we sat around playing Halo 2, the game of choice for college students of the loser persuasion.
“Because you say stupid shit like ‘horses’ or ‘dragons’.”
“Ah, well…so what? Is it that big a deal.” He looked at me and shook his head.
“It’s fucked up, you should be shot.”
“Oh I already have, but it didn’t kill me.” Chris was starting to look like he was going to blow a fuse. I didn’t really care as we kept on playing. His finger stayed on his controller’s button like one would stay on the trigger of a gun.
I guess you can say that at the beginning of this story I was already sick of it.
Sick of how every boy my age acted like he was a guest star on the Sopranos.
Sick of the Music.
Sick of the weather.
Sick of feeling different than everyone else
And most importantly
Sick of looking like an idiot in front of girls.
Of course it’s hard to go to war with the whole system considering people, like Chris, actually do stand me (or my laugh). I belted out a hearty laugh as I shot one of the men on the screen.
“Horses”
I am leading my own rebellion.
“Faggot, do you have any idea how badly I could beat the shit out of you!?”
“Who cares, you would beat me for saying horses?”
“Yo, I could and would, because you are gay.”
“Steve let’s get go grab some food.” Said Dave my new roommate.
So a new adventure begins. We left my new dorm, Whitaker Intl to go up the hill to old Corey Hall, the place where kids go to put on pounds and take years off their lives.
“I’ll have a double cheeseburger with bacon please.”
“Would you like fries with that?”
As we eat we sit down with Jon and Matt from Fitzgerald Hall (my old stomping grounds before being transferred to the international dorm.)
“So what is it like living with Stephen?” John asked Dave.
“His music…god…his music.” He said as he gave a half serious smile.
“I don’t want to hear anything from a man who listens to Def Leopard.” I snapped back.
“Steve, nobody has ever even heard your music before.”
“That’s because the culture and arts around here are so damn shitty. You have to go to the west coast or Europe to get the good tunes, everything on TV is so trashy.”
“Like your music!”
Obviously this conversation was going nowhere and I could never convince them otherwise, and I certainly wasn’t going to let them convince me. I ended up changing the conversation.
“So when are you leaving for Boston tomorrow?” I asked Dave.
“Probably in the afternoon when I wake up, we won’t be back until like Sunday afternoon.” As if just remembering to say it “Don’t let anyone sleep in my bed.”
“Don’t worry” I comforted him “My two gay guy friends are coming up and spooning in your bed, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Yes I mind a lot, actually.” Said Dave as he laughed. We all grabbed our trays when a girl stopped us.
“Hey Steve!” she said. I had no idea who this woman was, but it had become obvious that the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“What’s up?”
“Oh not much, I haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“That’s because I’ve been going home and working and chillaxin in my new dorm.”
“Oh? Which is that?’
“Whitaker Intl.”
“Isn’t everyone in Whitaker like…Asian, you’re not Asian are you?” These are trying times.
“No, but only like 20 percent of the kids in the dorm are actually international, the rest are Americans.
“Why would you want to live there?”
“My dear, the dorms are much larger, plus I have my own bathroom.”
Oh and how I would come to appreciate that bathroom by the end of the weekend.
“Ahh, well, Kate is upstairs working, you should go visit her.”
Gulp.
I convinced Dave to come up to see this girl who was working at the information desk. She was in my Academic Writing class and everyday we would sit and bond over our distaste for our closet case professor and his teaching methods.
Since then, I would see her once in awhile on campus, which was disappointing, since she was a gorgeous girl who also happened to be interesting at the same time (very rare these days).
“Can I help you?” She asks me.
“Hey killer, I heard you were working so I figured I was in the neighborhood and I’d stop by and say hi.”
“Oh yeah? Who told you I was working here.”
“Ummm, some girl, I can’t really remember her name, she had like red hair?”
“Uhh, I don’t know a girl with red hair.”
“Yeah, Steve, she didn’t have red hair, it was like brown.” Dave says.
“I don’t know, it was like reddish-brown.” I replied. What a god damn idiot I am, just keep talking genius. “So how do you like your job?”
(Great question, huh)
“It’s a job, it’s busier than when I was working at night, I am hassled with phone cal-“
The phone rings, as she answers the phone, Dave and I just look at each other. I knew I had put myself in this awkward situation, and there was only one way out. Kate then hung up the phone.
“So, anyways, I figured I’d just stop by and say hi.” She looks at me with a half assed smile.
“Well, hi.”
“I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yep, goodbye.”
I woke up 2 hours after class started at like 3 in the afternoon. Tonight Dan and Levi were going to come up and spend this lovely Friday night with me as we tore the town up. I was told they were going to surprise me with a birthday gift I would love.
That night I was getting ready for the big partying as I looked through my closet.
Wrinkled Hawaiian shirt.
Wrinkled Plaid shirt.
This was Friday night and I was not going to mess around.
And the rest were all like that as well. The other side of the closet was filled with wrinkled khakis. I decided on a blue Hawaiian shirt and my dress pants which needed my favorite sunglasses.
I had gotten these black aviators in a gas station with Madeleine Grimmer only a few months ago, but I loved them more than any other pair I had ever had.
As Life During Wartime by the Talking Heads came on my stereo, I felt the song was perfect feeling for what I felt was going to be an insane night.
I walked into Chris and Rocky’s room (the room next to me that we share a bathroom with) in my attire. I was greeted with
“What the hell are you wearing, are you fucking serious?” says Mo. This girl I had known for about a week, and after we had both threatened each other’s lives that weekend on a drunken phone call, you could say we never started on the right foot.
“Yes, I am very serious, this is how I roll.” Her and the other girls in the room laughed.
“You look so fucking stupid, Stephen, can you at least TRY not to act or look like a jackass?” Said Chris.
“Yeah, you look like a creepy 50 year old guy that hits on young girls at like hotels.”
“Well, good, that was the look I was going for.”
“Listen, I know it’s your style and everything like that, but you are not going to get the women of today if you go around acting and dressing like a jackass.”
“Woman, you have no clue.”
Just then Dan called and told me him and Levi had gotten lost, but were almost there to greet me with my birthday gift. .
Jagermeister, a German drink that some call a man’s drink, and my mother calls an old woman’s drink.
Its true identity lies somewhere in between.
At first, drank cold, it tastes like liquid liquorish (saying liquid liquorish sounds bizarre in itself) and goes down quite easily. The cover itself with the picture of the deer screams total badass and seems marketed for men who do not mess around. It is rumored that when hunters catch a buck, they put a little bit of the blood of the deer in their Jagermeister as they drink it, which could be true or not, I am not totally sure.
But no matter what you think of the Jagermeister, in the end after all the fun and games are over, it comes for the very heart and soul of you.
Like a beautiful woman, the Jagermeister was a master of breaking the hearts and dreams of young men, just looking for a good time, and I soon would learn that very lesson.
“Steve, my man, what is up?” said my good friend Dan. Levi was right behind him with their blankets, which also carried the stash that would hold us down for the night.
To sign them in for the night, I had to talk to my RA, Saab. This obviously was not his true name, for he was Japanese and knowing people would have just as hard a time pronouncing his name as he did my friends.
He looked at Dan’s license.
“Ji..J….Jim?”
“Jimmerson is my last name, my first name is Dan. Saab looked back down at the license and then back at Dan with an embarrassed look on his face.
“Oh, yes, I see.” Saab was just sitting down watching a movie as he took care of visitor papers.
“What movie are you watching Saab?”
“Ce…Ce-…Cell….DAMN I CAN’T SAY!”
“Cellular?”
“Yes, that.” Saab said with an embarrassed tone. He looked over at Levi. “And your name is-
“Levi, don’t even worry about trying to pronounce it.”
As we all walked away from Saab in the lobby he looked up at us and said
“Don’t forget, no drink.”
“Don’t worry Saab, you can trust us.” I said with a wink.
The poor bastard had no idea what he had just done by allowing Dan and Levi to come in.
The room was semi-clean considering Dave had left later that night to go to Boston, so now it was just us three. Rocky came in the room and started to drink with us.
“Steve, what do you have there?” He said pointing at my bottle of Jagermeister.
“This my dear friend, is my birthday gift from these two gentlemen right over there.” I said pointing to Dan and Levi. “So Dan, what do you think of my room compared to my last dorm room?”
“Not so bad there Mr. Taylor.”
“Check this shit out.” I got off my bed and walked over to the bathroom that separated Dave and my room from Rocky and Chris’s room. Inside was a tub still moist from a shower earlier that day. The toilet was even surprisingly clean, but since it was the weekend, and girls may be coming in, it was understandable that everything was looking better than normal. “Not bad, now we have our own bathroom, so no more cleaning other people’s puke after horrible nights.”
“I guess that comes in handy.”
Cough… foreshadowing… cough
And just like that, it started.
I raised up the Red Sox shot glass for a toast.
“To the Rebellion.”
“So are you guys going lady hunting tonight? I asked Levi and Dan. Levi looked at Dan and gave a devilish grin.
“Sort of.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well,” Levi continued. “We are going hogging.”
“Hogging?”
“Yes, Stephen, hogging.”
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“It’s quite a simple game,” explained Dan. “You simply look for the ugliest, fattest girls possible for other guys and whoever finds the most wins.”
“I am sure you guys have tons of practice at Corning Community College.”
“Oh we certainly do.”
“Well then, let’s get started.”
We started our way up the hill with Rocky as our guide to Omega, which according to their members is the only official frat left on campus, I really do have less options than other people thanks to my earlier run in with the frat TKE, which was the other major party going on that night.
As we walked past Corey Hall, a few kids started screaming my name, but this time, I already had loads of Jagermeister running through my system.
“STEVE TAYLOR!!”
“Jesus god, look at those animals over there, Dan.”
“They are calling your name, you should probably be nice and respond.”
“FUCK YOU, YOU RAT BASTARDS!” I said as I stumbled by them. They laughed at my slurred insult and my trouble walking up the hill in my blue Acapulco shirt, my favorite sunglasses and my black and mild cigar.
“Stephen, I don’t get it, so many people try to say hi and you have to be a dick.” Said Levi.
“Levi, my friend, it’s important to keep things in perspective, I am sure they can already tell the sort of situation I am in and will understand if I react with hostility.”
“I don’t know Steve Taylor, you’re crazy.”
“I am sure the girls treat you the same way.” Dan added in.
“Sometimes it can get a little rough, but those things never did come easy for me.” I replied.
“Speaking of which, how is your girl situation these days?”
“Oh there is always an apple in my eye.”
“Oh? Who?” asked Rocky.
“Rocky, I barely even know the girl.”
“Then why don’t you try to hang out with her.”
“Well whenever I am near her I always act like a jackass, so it’s probably better that I don’t even try. Besides, everyone knows that I’m married to the sea.”
“Married to the sea?”
“Yes, of course, I have been passionate about things my whole life, it’s hard to just water down my beliefs and the way I act just to get some ass. It’s simply not me.”
“Whatever Steve, you’re crazy.”
“Oh no, my dear Rocky, it’s called self integrity.”
We kept on talking as we followed Rocky through the streets of Cortland, freezing our tails off. Kids kept walking the other way of the way we were going.
“Rocky are you sure you know where you are going?”
“Yeah, don’t worry I am positive.”
20 minutes later upon turning around and yelling at Rocky all the way to Omega we reached the house.
Upon entering the house, there were 5 men decked out in dress shirts with gelled hair. These were members of Omega. Dressed to kill, waiting for some jackass like me to get out of line to try out the polished guns resting impressively on their shoulders.
I had entered the belly of the beast and this was only the beginning.
Dan, Levi, Rocky and I all paid our way in and were surrounded by girls and guys crowded together near the bar. Some of the girls wearing very little clothing in the middle of February, proving how far from reality these girls’ lives were.
“Where is the beer, my good man?” I asked the boy behind the counter.
“Upstairs, there should be a whole keg.”
“Thank you, sir, appreciate it.”
These bastards were on to me; I did count my lucky stars though, for I was not at TKE. The black light was on, lighting up all the flowers on my shirt and making it easier for me to see with my sunglasses on as I crawled through the pack of wild girls surrounding me.
“Hey, excuse me?” asked a random girl with a glazed look in her eye.
“Yes, my dear?”
“I like your hawaiian shirt!”
“Thank you very much, you don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Why are you wearing it though?” I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders at her.
“Why not?’ The answer was worded strangely, but the girl understood what the meaning was behind my slurred words. Maybe she thought I was mad, maybe she thought that I was an idiot.
But for a moment
Maybe
Just maybe
She understood where I was coming from.
Levi grabbed my shoulder.
“There you are, where did you go?”
“God only knows.” I said back to him, as I turned around to the girl she was gone. While she did not seem particularly smart or beautiful, the girl’s awareness was on a level not many at this zoo-like brothel couldn’t handle at a time like this. The poor girl was probably swallowed alive by the crowd, never to be the same again.
“Steve? Are you listening?” Levi asked me.
“Yeah, don’t worry about me, how are you my friend?”
“Not too bad, but Dan and I don’t think there are enough ugly girls around here to go hogging.” We looked at the girls around us putting on their best winter Barbie impressions and I had to agree with him.
Dan, Levi and I were definitely not dressed anything like the people around us. Maybe because that is because we were from upstate New York and realized that where we were was still Upstate New York, not some club in Long Island.
The four of us (Rocky was somewhere talking to people) mingled around for a few hours before we were slowly pushed out the door by the crowd of people who realized that their dreams were ending with the lack of alcohol left in the building.
Now came the great race for guys to try and pick up girls or get them to follow them on lost causes of good times that would end in drunken sex or worse.
For me, came the realization that I had brought one of the greatest party tools I have ever known. In my hand laid the breathilizer, the yardstick for alcoholism.
As everyone walked by me, they asked if they could use it. Then one frat boy came up to me and said in my ear “I AM SO DRUNK, GOD, LET ME SEE THAT THING.” I put the breathilizer up to his face.
“Blow dammit, blow now!” I said to him in the most heterosexual way possible.
I looked at the machine as soon as it beeped. We both awaited the results.
“WELL WHAT DOES IT SAY, YO?”
“0.03…Jesus god…you pussy!” I said to him.
As soon as I said this, I immediately regretted it. He was taken back by what I said and looked at his brothers, who then looked at me. They looked at me and laughed, probably in shock that I would say something so stupid that it must have been a joke. It reminded me very much of the conversation I had the police officer awhile back.
And just when it looked like that was the end for me, the most amazing thing happened.
They all started to laugh, and then a couple even shook my hand as I left.
Words cannot describe how easily I breathed walking up the hill.
“Steve, you are an absolute idiot.” Said Dan as he started laughing. “You have no idea how close you were to getting the shit beat out of you right there in front of everyone.”
“This is true,” I agreed. “There was no way possible I would have made it out of there alive fighting. But hey, I am ok, and that is what is important for now.” Dan and Levi just shook their heads and started laughing. Rocky was up ahead, god only knows doing what…and then.
I was pushed from behind in the snow.
I got up and then I was pushed down again, kids from all angles, and not just Dan and Levi, the bastards who started it, but just kids walking past me on the street. I would have fought back, but at this point I was totally confused as hell.
As my face hit the snow, I tried to crawl out as someone yelled out
“Look how drunk that kid is.” I didn’t even give a shit about that stupid kid, I was more worried about getting out of this snow before it got into my shoes, therefore making my trip home that much worse.
In my way out of the snow, though, I found the most unusual of objects.
The identification card for SUNY Cortland Student David Crist.
Who was this man?
Why did this name sound so familiar.
“Put the ID down, Steve, just leave it there in case they go to find it in the morning.” Said Levi.
“No, I will find this person, damnit, the night is still young Levi.”
“Steve, you are so drunk, you need to get home.”
“You bastards, this man is in immediate danger, we must find him before he freezes to death.”
“Listen to you Stephen, you are so gone, you sound like an idiot.”
“SILENCE!”
We all walked down the hill back by Corey Hall and at the bottom of the hill were three people. Kerps, the Indian boy who was in my business classes, a girl, and another boy who looked very familiar. I decided this had to be Mr. Crist, for you could tell he was very upset about something.
“Excuse me, are you Dave Crist?”
“Yes, why?”
“I have your identification card, and your keys as well.” The joy on his face could not be described as he lounged to hug me.
“HOLY SHIT, THIS IS AMAZING, YOU ARE MY HERO!”
“YES I AM A HERO!”
I AM THE HERO.
So we stood there dancing and hugging in a huge group outside Fitzgerald before someone opened up there window and said
“Steve Taylor, please I am trying to sleep, could you get the hell away from my dorm.”
And just like that we left and made it back home.
(Ringing Noise)
“Tina come get some ham!” screamed the cellphone in my ear.
(Ringing Noise)
“Tina come get some Ham.”
Oh fuck. I knew why my alarm was on. I had promised a girl earlier that week that I would drive her and her friends to a ski lodge 30 minutes away.
Random yes, but it would definitely be out of character for me not to help a girl in distress.
“Steve, why are you doing this?” asked Dan as his face was pressed against his pillow.
“Because the girl needed my help, she was desperate for a ride, besides, I am making someone’s day, good karma always comes back.”
“It’s 9:30 in the morning.”
“Yeah, fucking tell me about it.” I said as I got out of bed. “Just get some more sleep, I’ll be back in awhile.”
I drove the car up to the parking lot to meet the girl named Michelle and her two friends. I got out of the car to help Michelle and her friends with getting their ski gear in and taking off.
“So how was your night?” I asked her.
“Good, yours?”
“It was ok. I’m a little tired.”
“Listen, if this is hassling you, then don’t take us.”
Well good morning to you.
“No, I am fine, I just had a late night of drinking.”
“Umm, listen, I don’t want you driving my friends if you are still drunk.”
Oh my god, what had I gotten myself into?
“No, don’t worry I took a breathilizer test.” I said trying to lighten up the mood.
“That’s not even funny to joke about.” This was going to be a very long ride.
As soon as we started driving I turned on some music to try and see if I could make things any less awkward.
I tried these songs in no particular order:
1. I would walk 500 miles by the Proclaimers
2. Such Great Heights by the Postal Service
3. Mrs. Robinson by Simon & Garfunkel
4. Golden Sulumbers by the Beatles and finally
5. Why can’t we be friends by War.
Not one of the beasts even blinked at my choices of music, further pushing ahead the theory I was driving around some group of non-lethal zombies, but maybe the level of awkwardness of meeting someone had finally gotten to them.
When I finally brought them to their ski lodge, I realized I had approximately 8 hours to kill, so instead of going directly home I drove around the hick area (not very different from my own home town).
I needed a breather from the claustrophobic life college had become. Constantly around people and the problems that follow them. One can barely realize that if you do not shield yourself from this post-high school dramatic culture, eventually you are sucked in, laughing and dancing as your soul and any individualism you ever had goes down the drain.
I cannot lie, for I am a very social animal, a neo-politician for the generation raised by Carson Daly and the OC. I could not keep up this guerrilla-terrorist writing if I was going to keep that position.
It was here, leaning on the driver door of my car, which was on the side of the road, that I made decisions to hard questions I was being faced with.
I didn’t want to go back into the Belly of the Beast. I didn’t think I could stand another night full of drunken madness. The drive had revitalized me.
I was going to start working again.
I wanted to lose weight so I called a nutritionist.
I wanted to try and get my life back into gear.
And for right now, I needed to not be such a god damn pussy and just ask this girl who I barely knew out on a date and not worry if I was too creepy or too big of a loser for doing it.
This girl, I keep talking about, and I go way back, unintentionally and randomly of course. The first few days into school I was still an absolutely terrified, much skinnier young man trying to avoid the awkwardness and embarrassment that had plagued me through high school. This girl actually came up to me and said “hi” even though she was with her friends and I, being the extremely cool person that I am, was by myself.
Of course being by myself I had my iPod with me. When she started talking to me I went to turn it off and knocked my tray over and the food landed all over her and the floor.
Embarrassing, I know, but nothing I haven’t done before.
I would then randomly see this girl on occasion and every time, I would do something horribly stupid. Whether it was me saying jack ass things or falling down or dropping things. Yet she smiled every time, probably out of pity, but still, it was a noble gesture. She probably doesn’t even remember a single moment.
Yet luckily for me (sarcasm) I remembered it all.
Moments of failure and embarrassment never leave the memory, no matter how many times you succeed.
Eventually, though, like all random strangers, she disappeared into the crowd as randomly as she came out of it.
I guess that’s how these things happen.
I never remembered her name (smooth on my part), so I never could actually get a hold of her on un-random terms. It would have been tragic if I had left Cortland never to see this girl again, but maybe the bigger tragedy was that she did eventually get a hold of me online.
Now I could really show her what a moron I was.
Now I was in the middle of nowhere, wanting to go back to my old life of dressing up almost everyday (and there was actually a reason to wear khakis everyday). I wanted to go back to a life where I could work during the day and terrorize people at nights with my friends. I wanted to go back to having money at my disposal (which I worked for, mind you) and could afford to take this random girl out to the movies and dinner at a nice restaurant.
On my way home I received an unexpected call from a very familiar person.
“Steefan, vhat are you doing?”
“Oh, just driving back from Walmart.”
“Oh, vell, I vanted to know if you’d like to come verk soon.”
“Oh, sure what did you have in mind?”
“Vell, I vanted to know if you’d like to start doing vine tasting again.”
“Yeah sure, I’d love to.”
“Good, I’ll have Eric talk to you about it soon.” Yes, that same Eric at the retail shop. Him and I gave tastings around the area and spent some time together on the road for the company.
“Do you vant to talk to your brother?”
“Sure.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“Hello.” Said Greg.
“Hey loser.”
“Did you go and party it up last night?’
“Yes indeed I did, I drank 4 bottles of Bicardi 1151 and shot at least 5 girls with my desert eagle.”
“Shut up idiot, you don’t even know how to shoot a desert eagle.”
“Yeah I know, but I seriously want one so bad when I get older, I want to have a pistol permit and just carry it around. That or a revolver, those things are so bad ass.”
“What is the point?” asked my brother.
“Because I think it’s pretty fashionable, plus I want to be able to just go out into the wilderness and just shoot it.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“No, jerk, I just want to enjoy my constitutional rights, and I don’t want to handle any shit right now, I am sick to my stomach.”
“You know between your style of clothing now and your drinking, you really are a mess.”
“Now what the fuck does that mean?”
“Steve, your beard, your sweatshirts with the dress pants and the dirty sneakers, and that fucking orange hunting hat of yours. You actually used to dress really nice (The bastard was right, I actually did get Best Dressed in High School), like you cared about yourself. You have changed so much over the 6 months you have been gone.”
“Well, of fucking course, I don’t live in that damn house anymore with you, mom and Bill with that damn psycho maid, although I could use her ironing abilities right now.”
“You better do something, Mom keeps saying you are never going to get a girlfriend, or worse, if you dress like this, you aren’t ever going to last with the Buffalo Bills.”
“Hey, I hate where I am, I hate what I am doing right now, I hate the fact that not one person understands what the fuck I am trying to do and why, and when I get out of here I will change all of this shit, if not the world. But on that note, I care very much about my fucking self, and I don’t give a shit what you or anyone else says.”
“Well, whatever, I have to go.”
“Goodbye.”
I was starting to lose control, not of the wheel of course, but everything. I was married to the sea, and I could sense when a storm was brewing. But maybe this whole time, this whole drive through the middle of nowhere was the eye of this storm, and I was going right back into it.
I just stared out the windshield, with too many emotions going through me to say anything but
“FUCK!”
~ George Orwell
“What the Hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, why do you ask?” I said to Chris as we sat around playing Halo 2, the game of choice for college students of the loser persuasion.
“Because you say stupid shit like ‘horses’ or ‘dragons’.”
“Ah, well…so what? Is it that big a deal.” He looked at me and shook his head.
“It’s fucked up, you should be shot.”
“Oh I already have, but it didn’t kill me.” Chris was starting to look like he was going to blow a fuse. I didn’t really care as we kept on playing. His finger stayed on his controller’s button like one would stay on the trigger of a gun.
I guess you can say that at the beginning of this story I was already sick of it.
Sick of how every boy my age acted like he was a guest star on the Sopranos.
Sick of the Music.
Sick of the weather.
Sick of feeling different than everyone else
And most importantly
Sick of looking like an idiot in front of girls.
Of course it’s hard to go to war with the whole system considering people, like Chris, actually do stand me (or my laugh). I belted out a hearty laugh as I shot one of the men on the screen.
“Horses”
I am leading my own rebellion.
“Faggot, do you have any idea how badly I could beat the shit out of you!?”
“Who cares, you would beat me for saying horses?”
“Yo, I could and would, because you are gay.”
“Steve let’s get go grab some food.” Said Dave my new roommate.
So a new adventure begins. We left my new dorm, Whitaker Intl to go up the hill to old Corey Hall, the place where kids go to put on pounds and take years off their lives.
“I’ll have a double cheeseburger with bacon please.”
“Would you like fries with that?”
As we eat we sit down with Jon and Matt from Fitzgerald Hall (my old stomping grounds before being transferred to the international dorm.)
“So what is it like living with Stephen?” John asked Dave.
“His music…god…his music.” He said as he gave a half serious smile.
“I don’t want to hear anything from a man who listens to Def Leopard.” I snapped back.
“Steve, nobody has ever even heard your music before.”
“That’s because the culture and arts around here are so damn shitty. You have to go to the west coast or Europe to get the good tunes, everything on TV is so trashy.”
“Like your music!”
Obviously this conversation was going nowhere and I could never convince them otherwise, and I certainly wasn’t going to let them convince me. I ended up changing the conversation.
“So when are you leaving for Boston tomorrow?” I asked Dave.
“Probably in the afternoon when I wake up, we won’t be back until like Sunday afternoon.” As if just remembering to say it “Don’t let anyone sleep in my bed.”
“Don’t worry” I comforted him “My two gay guy friends are coming up and spooning in your bed, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Yes I mind a lot, actually.” Said Dave as he laughed. We all grabbed our trays when a girl stopped us.
“Hey Steve!” she said. I had no idea who this woman was, but it had become obvious that the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“What’s up?”
“Oh not much, I haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“That’s because I’ve been going home and working and chillaxin in my new dorm.”
“Oh? Which is that?’
“Whitaker Intl.”
“Isn’t everyone in Whitaker like…Asian, you’re not Asian are you?” These are trying times.
“No, but only like 20 percent of the kids in the dorm are actually international, the rest are Americans.
“Why would you want to live there?”
“My dear, the dorms are much larger, plus I have my own bathroom.”
Oh and how I would come to appreciate that bathroom by the end of the weekend.
“Ahh, well, Kate is upstairs working, you should go visit her.”
Gulp.
I convinced Dave to come up to see this girl who was working at the information desk. She was in my Academic Writing class and everyday we would sit and bond over our distaste for our closet case professor and his teaching methods.
Since then, I would see her once in awhile on campus, which was disappointing, since she was a gorgeous girl who also happened to be interesting at the same time (very rare these days).
“Can I help you?” She asks me.
“Hey killer, I heard you were working so I figured I was in the neighborhood and I’d stop by and say hi.”
“Oh yeah? Who told you I was working here.”
“Ummm, some girl, I can’t really remember her name, she had like red hair?”
“Uhh, I don’t know a girl with red hair.”
“Yeah, Steve, she didn’t have red hair, it was like brown.” Dave says.
“I don’t know, it was like reddish-brown.” I replied. What a god damn idiot I am, just keep talking genius. “So how do you like your job?”
(Great question, huh)
“It’s a job, it’s busier than when I was working at night, I am hassled with phone cal-“
The phone rings, as she answers the phone, Dave and I just look at each other. I knew I had put myself in this awkward situation, and there was only one way out. Kate then hung up the phone.
“So, anyways, I figured I’d just stop by and say hi.” She looks at me with a half assed smile.
“Well, hi.”
“I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yep, goodbye.”
I woke up 2 hours after class started at like 3 in the afternoon. Tonight Dan and Levi were going to come up and spend this lovely Friday night with me as we tore the town up. I was told they were going to surprise me with a birthday gift I would love.
That night I was getting ready for the big partying as I looked through my closet.
Wrinkled Hawaiian shirt.
Wrinkled Plaid shirt.
This was Friday night and I was not going to mess around.
And the rest were all like that as well. The other side of the closet was filled with wrinkled khakis. I decided on a blue Hawaiian shirt and my dress pants which needed my favorite sunglasses.
I had gotten these black aviators in a gas station with Madeleine Grimmer only a few months ago, but I loved them more than any other pair I had ever had.
As Life During Wartime by the Talking Heads came on my stereo, I felt the song was perfect feeling for what I felt was going to be an insane night.
I walked into Chris and Rocky’s room (the room next to me that we share a bathroom with) in my attire. I was greeted with
“What the hell are you wearing, are you fucking serious?” says Mo. This girl I had known for about a week, and after we had both threatened each other’s lives that weekend on a drunken phone call, you could say we never started on the right foot.
“Yes, I am very serious, this is how I roll.” Her and the other girls in the room laughed.
“You look so fucking stupid, Stephen, can you at least TRY not to act or look like a jackass?” Said Chris.
“Yeah, you look like a creepy 50 year old guy that hits on young girls at like hotels.”
“Well, good, that was the look I was going for.”
“Listen, I know it’s your style and everything like that, but you are not going to get the women of today if you go around acting and dressing like a jackass.”
“Woman, you have no clue.”
Just then Dan called and told me him and Levi had gotten lost, but were almost there to greet me with my birthday gift. .
Jagermeister, a German drink that some call a man’s drink, and my mother calls an old woman’s drink.
Its true identity lies somewhere in between.
At first, drank cold, it tastes like liquid liquorish (saying liquid liquorish sounds bizarre in itself) and goes down quite easily. The cover itself with the picture of the deer screams total badass and seems marketed for men who do not mess around. It is rumored that when hunters catch a buck, they put a little bit of the blood of the deer in their Jagermeister as they drink it, which could be true or not, I am not totally sure.
But no matter what you think of the Jagermeister, in the end after all the fun and games are over, it comes for the very heart and soul of you.
Like a beautiful woman, the Jagermeister was a master of breaking the hearts and dreams of young men, just looking for a good time, and I soon would learn that very lesson.
“Steve, my man, what is up?” said my good friend Dan. Levi was right behind him with their blankets, which also carried the stash that would hold us down for the night.
To sign them in for the night, I had to talk to my RA, Saab. This obviously was not his true name, for he was Japanese and knowing people would have just as hard a time pronouncing his name as he did my friends.
He looked at Dan’s license.
“Ji..J….Jim?”
“Jimmerson is my last name, my first name is Dan. Saab looked back down at the license and then back at Dan with an embarrassed look on his face.
“Oh, yes, I see.” Saab was just sitting down watching a movie as he took care of visitor papers.
“What movie are you watching Saab?”
“Ce…Ce-…Cell….DAMN I CAN’T SAY!”
“Cellular?”
“Yes, that.” Saab said with an embarrassed tone. He looked over at Levi. “And your name is-
“Levi, don’t even worry about trying to pronounce it.”
As we all walked away from Saab in the lobby he looked up at us and said
“Don’t forget, no drink.”
“Don’t worry Saab, you can trust us.” I said with a wink.
The poor bastard had no idea what he had just done by allowing Dan and Levi to come in.
The room was semi-clean considering Dave had left later that night to go to Boston, so now it was just us three. Rocky came in the room and started to drink with us.
“Steve, what do you have there?” He said pointing at my bottle of Jagermeister.
“This my dear friend, is my birthday gift from these two gentlemen right over there.” I said pointing to Dan and Levi. “So Dan, what do you think of my room compared to my last dorm room?”
“Not so bad there Mr. Taylor.”
“Check this shit out.” I got off my bed and walked over to the bathroom that separated Dave and my room from Rocky and Chris’s room. Inside was a tub still moist from a shower earlier that day. The toilet was even surprisingly clean, but since it was the weekend, and girls may be coming in, it was understandable that everything was looking better than normal. “Not bad, now we have our own bathroom, so no more cleaning other people’s puke after horrible nights.”
“I guess that comes in handy.”
Cough… foreshadowing… cough
And just like that, it started.
I raised up the Red Sox shot glass for a toast.
“To the Rebellion.”
“So are you guys going lady hunting tonight? I asked Levi and Dan. Levi looked at Dan and gave a devilish grin.
“Sort of.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well,” Levi continued. “We are going hogging.”
“Hogging?”
“Yes, Stephen, hogging.”
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“It’s quite a simple game,” explained Dan. “You simply look for the ugliest, fattest girls possible for other guys and whoever finds the most wins.”
“I am sure you guys have tons of practice at Corning Community College.”
“Oh we certainly do.”
“Well then, let’s get started.”
We started our way up the hill with Rocky as our guide to Omega, which according to their members is the only official frat left on campus, I really do have less options than other people thanks to my earlier run in with the frat TKE, which was the other major party going on that night.
As we walked past Corey Hall, a few kids started screaming my name, but this time, I already had loads of Jagermeister running through my system.
“STEVE TAYLOR!!”
“Jesus god, look at those animals over there, Dan.”
“They are calling your name, you should probably be nice and respond.”
“FUCK YOU, YOU RAT BASTARDS!” I said as I stumbled by them. They laughed at my slurred insult and my trouble walking up the hill in my blue Acapulco shirt, my favorite sunglasses and my black and mild cigar.
“Stephen, I don’t get it, so many people try to say hi and you have to be a dick.” Said Levi.
“Levi, my friend, it’s important to keep things in perspective, I am sure they can already tell the sort of situation I am in and will understand if I react with hostility.”
“I don’t know Steve Taylor, you’re crazy.”
“I am sure the girls treat you the same way.” Dan added in.
“Sometimes it can get a little rough, but those things never did come easy for me.” I replied.
“Speaking of which, how is your girl situation these days?”
“Oh there is always an apple in my eye.”
“Oh? Who?” asked Rocky.
“Rocky, I barely even know the girl.”
“Then why don’t you try to hang out with her.”
“Well whenever I am near her I always act like a jackass, so it’s probably better that I don’t even try. Besides, everyone knows that I’m married to the sea.”
“Married to the sea?”
“Yes, of course, I have been passionate about things my whole life, it’s hard to just water down my beliefs and the way I act just to get some ass. It’s simply not me.”
“Whatever Steve, you’re crazy.”
“Oh no, my dear Rocky, it’s called self integrity.”
We kept on talking as we followed Rocky through the streets of Cortland, freezing our tails off. Kids kept walking the other way of the way we were going.
“Rocky are you sure you know where you are going?”
“Yeah, don’t worry I am positive.”
20 minutes later upon turning around and yelling at Rocky all the way to Omega we reached the house.
Upon entering the house, there were 5 men decked out in dress shirts with gelled hair. These were members of Omega. Dressed to kill, waiting for some jackass like me to get out of line to try out the polished guns resting impressively on their shoulders.
I had entered the belly of the beast and this was only the beginning.
Dan, Levi, Rocky and I all paid our way in and were surrounded by girls and guys crowded together near the bar. Some of the girls wearing very little clothing in the middle of February, proving how far from reality these girls’ lives were.
“Where is the beer, my good man?” I asked the boy behind the counter.
“Upstairs, there should be a whole keg.”
“Thank you, sir, appreciate it.”
These bastards were on to me; I did count my lucky stars though, for I was not at TKE. The black light was on, lighting up all the flowers on my shirt and making it easier for me to see with my sunglasses on as I crawled through the pack of wild girls surrounding me.
“Hey, excuse me?” asked a random girl with a glazed look in her eye.
“Yes, my dear?”
“I like your hawaiian shirt!”
“Thank you very much, you don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Why are you wearing it though?” I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders at her.
“Why not?’ The answer was worded strangely, but the girl understood what the meaning was behind my slurred words. Maybe she thought I was mad, maybe she thought that I was an idiot.
But for a moment
Maybe
Just maybe
She understood where I was coming from.
Levi grabbed my shoulder.
“There you are, where did you go?”
“God only knows.” I said back to him, as I turned around to the girl she was gone. While she did not seem particularly smart or beautiful, the girl’s awareness was on a level not many at this zoo-like brothel couldn’t handle at a time like this. The poor girl was probably swallowed alive by the crowd, never to be the same again.
“Steve? Are you listening?” Levi asked me.
“Yeah, don’t worry about me, how are you my friend?”
“Not too bad, but Dan and I don’t think there are enough ugly girls around here to go hogging.” We looked at the girls around us putting on their best winter Barbie impressions and I had to agree with him.
Dan, Levi and I were definitely not dressed anything like the people around us. Maybe because that is because we were from upstate New York and realized that where we were was still Upstate New York, not some club in Long Island.
The four of us (Rocky was somewhere talking to people) mingled around for a few hours before we were slowly pushed out the door by the crowd of people who realized that their dreams were ending with the lack of alcohol left in the building.
Now came the great race for guys to try and pick up girls or get them to follow them on lost causes of good times that would end in drunken sex or worse.
For me, came the realization that I had brought one of the greatest party tools I have ever known. In my hand laid the breathilizer, the yardstick for alcoholism.
As everyone walked by me, they asked if they could use it. Then one frat boy came up to me and said in my ear “I AM SO DRUNK, GOD, LET ME SEE THAT THING.” I put the breathilizer up to his face.
“Blow dammit, blow now!” I said to him in the most heterosexual way possible.
I looked at the machine as soon as it beeped. We both awaited the results.
“WELL WHAT DOES IT SAY, YO?”
“0.03…Jesus god…you pussy!” I said to him.
As soon as I said this, I immediately regretted it. He was taken back by what I said and looked at his brothers, who then looked at me. They looked at me and laughed, probably in shock that I would say something so stupid that it must have been a joke. It reminded me very much of the conversation I had the police officer awhile back.
And just when it looked like that was the end for me, the most amazing thing happened.
They all started to laugh, and then a couple even shook my hand as I left.
Words cannot describe how easily I breathed walking up the hill.
“Steve, you are an absolute idiot.” Said Dan as he started laughing. “You have no idea how close you were to getting the shit beat out of you right there in front of everyone.”
“This is true,” I agreed. “There was no way possible I would have made it out of there alive fighting. But hey, I am ok, and that is what is important for now.” Dan and Levi just shook their heads and started laughing. Rocky was up ahead, god only knows doing what…and then.
I was pushed from behind in the snow.
I got up and then I was pushed down again, kids from all angles, and not just Dan and Levi, the bastards who started it, but just kids walking past me on the street. I would have fought back, but at this point I was totally confused as hell.
As my face hit the snow, I tried to crawl out as someone yelled out
“Look how drunk that kid is.” I didn’t even give a shit about that stupid kid, I was more worried about getting out of this snow before it got into my shoes, therefore making my trip home that much worse.
In my way out of the snow, though, I found the most unusual of objects.
The identification card for SUNY Cortland Student David Crist.
Who was this man?
Why did this name sound so familiar.
“Put the ID down, Steve, just leave it there in case they go to find it in the morning.” Said Levi.
“No, I will find this person, damnit, the night is still young Levi.”
“Steve, you are so drunk, you need to get home.”
“You bastards, this man is in immediate danger, we must find him before he freezes to death.”
“Listen to you Stephen, you are so gone, you sound like an idiot.”
“SILENCE!”
We all walked down the hill back by Corey Hall and at the bottom of the hill were three people. Kerps, the Indian boy who was in my business classes, a girl, and another boy who looked very familiar. I decided this had to be Mr. Crist, for you could tell he was very upset about something.
“Excuse me, are you Dave Crist?”
“Yes, why?”
“I have your identification card, and your keys as well.” The joy on his face could not be described as he lounged to hug me.
“HOLY SHIT, THIS IS AMAZING, YOU ARE MY HERO!”
“YES I AM A HERO!”
I AM THE HERO.
So we stood there dancing and hugging in a huge group outside Fitzgerald before someone opened up there window and said
“Steve Taylor, please I am trying to sleep, could you get the hell away from my dorm.”
And just like that we left and made it back home.
(Ringing Noise)
“Tina come get some ham!” screamed the cellphone in my ear.
(Ringing Noise)
“Tina come get some Ham.”
Oh fuck. I knew why my alarm was on. I had promised a girl earlier that week that I would drive her and her friends to a ski lodge 30 minutes away.
Random yes, but it would definitely be out of character for me not to help a girl in distress.
“Steve, why are you doing this?” asked Dan as his face was pressed against his pillow.
“Because the girl needed my help, she was desperate for a ride, besides, I am making someone’s day, good karma always comes back.”
“It’s 9:30 in the morning.”
“Yeah, fucking tell me about it.” I said as I got out of bed. “Just get some more sleep, I’ll be back in awhile.”
I drove the car up to the parking lot to meet the girl named Michelle and her two friends. I got out of the car to help Michelle and her friends with getting their ski gear in and taking off.
“So how was your night?” I asked her.
“Good, yours?”
“It was ok. I’m a little tired.”
“Listen, if this is hassling you, then don’t take us.”
Well good morning to you.
“No, I am fine, I just had a late night of drinking.”
“Umm, listen, I don’t want you driving my friends if you are still drunk.”
Oh my god, what had I gotten myself into?
“No, don’t worry I took a breathilizer test.” I said trying to lighten up the mood.
“That’s not even funny to joke about.” This was going to be a very long ride.
As soon as we started driving I turned on some music to try and see if I could make things any less awkward.
I tried these songs in no particular order:
1. I would walk 500 miles by the Proclaimers
2. Such Great Heights by the Postal Service
3. Mrs. Robinson by Simon & Garfunkel
4. Golden Sulumbers by the Beatles and finally
5. Why can’t we be friends by War.
Not one of the beasts even blinked at my choices of music, further pushing ahead the theory I was driving around some group of non-lethal zombies, but maybe the level of awkwardness of meeting someone had finally gotten to them.
When I finally brought them to their ski lodge, I realized I had approximately 8 hours to kill, so instead of going directly home I drove around the hick area (not very different from my own home town).
I needed a breather from the claustrophobic life college had become. Constantly around people and the problems that follow them. One can barely realize that if you do not shield yourself from this post-high school dramatic culture, eventually you are sucked in, laughing and dancing as your soul and any individualism you ever had goes down the drain.
I cannot lie, for I am a very social animal, a neo-politician for the generation raised by Carson Daly and the OC. I could not keep up this guerrilla-terrorist writing if I was going to keep that position.
It was here, leaning on the driver door of my car, which was on the side of the road, that I made decisions to hard questions I was being faced with.
I didn’t want to go back into the Belly of the Beast. I didn’t think I could stand another night full of drunken madness. The drive had revitalized me.
I was going to start working again.
I wanted to lose weight so I called a nutritionist.
I wanted to try and get my life back into gear.
And for right now, I needed to not be such a god damn pussy and just ask this girl who I barely knew out on a date and not worry if I was too creepy or too big of a loser for doing it.
This girl, I keep talking about, and I go way back, unintentionally and randomly of course. The first few days into school I was still an absolutely terrified, much skinnier young man trying to avoid the awkwardness and embarrassment that had plagued me through high school. This girl actually came up to me and said “hi” even though she was with her friends and I, being the extremely cool person that I am, was by myself.
Of course being by myself I had my iPod with me. When she started talking to me I went to turn it off and knocked my tray over and the food landed all over her and the floor.
Embarrassing, I know, but nothing I haven’t done before.
I would then randomly see this girl on occasion and every time, I would do something horribly stupid. Whether it was me saying jack ass things or falling down or dropping things. Yet she smiled every time, probably out of pity, but still, it was a noble gesture. She probably doesn’t even remember a single moment.
Yet luckily for me (sarcasm) I remembered it all.
Moments of failure and embarrassment never leave the memory, no matter how many times you succeed.
Eventually, though, like all random strangers, she disappeared into the crowd as randomly as she came out of it.
I guess that’s how these things happen.
I never remembered her name (smooth on my part), so I never could actually get a hold of her on un-random terms. It would have been tragic if I had left Cortland never to see this girl again, but maybe the bigger tragedy was that she did eventually get a hold of me online.
Now I could really show her what a moron I was.
Now I was in the middle of nowhere, wanting to go back to my old life of dressing up almost everyday (and there was actually a reason to wear khakis everyday). I wanted to go back to a life where I could work during the day and terrorize people at nights with my friends. I wanted to go back to having money at my disposal (which I worked for, mind you) and could afford to take this random girl out to the movies and dinner at a nice restaurant.
On my way home I received an unexpected call from a very familiar person.
“Steefan, vhat are you doing?”
“Oh, just driving back from Walmart.”
“Oh, vell, I vanted to know if you’d like to come verk soon.”
“Oh, sure what did you have in mind?”
“Vell, I vanted to know if you’d like to start doing vine tasting again.”
“Yeah sure, I’d love to.”
“Good, I’ll have Eric talk to you about it soon.” Yes, that same Eric at the retail shop. Him and I gave tastings around the area and spent some time together on the road for the company.
“Do you vant to talk to your brother?”
“Sure.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“Hello.” Said Greg.
“Hey loser.”
“Did you go and party it up last night?’
“Yes indeed I did, I drank 4 bottles of Bicardi 1151 and shot at least 5 girls with my desert eagle.”
“Shut up idiot, you don’t even know how to shoot a desert eagle.”
“Yeah I know, but I seriously want one so bad when I get older, I want to have a pistol permit and just carry it around. That or a revolver, those things are so bad ass.”
“What is the point?” asked my brother.
“Because I think it’s pretty fashionable, plus I want to be able to just go out into the wilderness and just shoot it.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“No, jerk, I just want to enjoy my constitutional rights, and I don’t want to handle any shit right now, I am sick to my stomach.”
“You know between your style of clothing now and your drinking, you really are a mess.”
“Now what the fuck does that mean?”
“Steve, your beard, your sweatshirts with the dress pants and the dirty sneakers, and that fucking orange hunting hat of yours. You actually used to dress really nice (The bastard was right, I actually did get Best Dressed in High School), like you cared about yourself. You have changed so much over the 6 months you have been gone.”
“Well, of fucking course, I don’t live in that damn house anymore with you, mom and Bill with that damn psycho maid, although I could use her ironing abilities right now.”
“You better do something, Mom keeps saying you are never going to get a girlfriend, or worse, if you dress like this, you aren’t ever going to last with the Buffalo Bills.”
“Hey, I hate where I am, I hate what I am doing right now, I hate the fact that not one person understands what the fuck I am trying to do and why, and when I get out of here I will change all of this shit, if not the world. But on that note, I care very much about my fucking self, and I don’t give a shit what you or anyone else says.”
“Well, whatever, I have to go.”
“Goodbye.”
I was starting to lose control, not of the wheel of course, but everything. I was married to the sea, and I could sense when a storm was brewing. But maybe this whole time, this whole drive through the middle of nowhere was the eye of this storm, and I was going right back into it.
I just stared out the windshield, with too many emotions going through me to say anything but
“FUCK!”