Some Things Never Change

So most of these entry's have been from years ago. I like to have a little perspective on most of my misdeeds...tell the stories a few times to get the bugs out...fill in the blanks with some funny shit if necessary...smooth over the rough edges and make sure there's not too much egg on my face...you know, the usual.

Sometimes however, there comes a story that needs to be written down immediately. Sometimes a series of events occurs that is so inexplicable; so insane that it needs to be emblazoned on a page quickly before logic and reason seep into the fabric of the tale and distort it's sheer, unimaginable awesomeness.

Saturday marked the beginning of the 2009 College Football Season, and with it ushered in the Gene Chizik Era of Auburn Football. I am a big time Auburn fan and as such, could not miss the inaugural event. Thus, I journeyed back to my Alma Mater for the game. It has been said that one can never truly go home again. I totally agree, but...
You can damn sure try!

Saturday morning 9 am: After an evening that ended rather uneventfully, but nonetheless with a Super Club stamp and empty Styrofoam boxes that once contained Willies Wings and Stuff, I was awoken to the sound of a chorus of rabid Bamers and Hoakies led by none other than the coach himself, Mr. Lee Corso. Gameday was back! I quietly re-hydrated while Kirk and the boys broke it all down for me, patiently waiting for a sliver of news about my Tigers...none would come (turns out we're not supposed to be that good...not really news).

Saturday morning 11 am: Shower

Saturday morning 11:30 am: Arrive at the ole frat house and drop off my car, shoot the shit with some former acquaintances from a past life (while drinking their beer), pack up my booze and head across campus to meet my friend "Stormy." (hint: She's a weather girl)

Noon: Toomer's Lemonade meet Jim Beam...Jim Beam-Toomers Lemonade...good. Now that we're all acquainted, let's move down the esophagus to the belly where you will make me feel stronger, wittier and generally more attractive and capable. Thanks.

Noon: Liquor Check: 1-0.75liter bottle of Jim Beam
1o-Jim Beam Minni's

Noon-2pm: Stormy and I stroll leisurely through our old stomping grounds admiring the "progress" and lamenting our lack of collegiate eligibility. We finish the Toomer's and move to coke. We pick up two more friends. We'll call them Girl A and Boy B more on that later.

2:30 pm: Go to Momma G's on Thatch to watch the Georgia Game. I get a 32oz Coors light...I become moderately intoxicated.

At this point a little more explanation about the group is necessary. Stormy and I went to school together, I think of her as one of my best friends from college. I came down to Auburn to see her. However, she is more interested in making babies with Boy B (or at least practicing). Double however, she has also promised Girl A a super fantastic good time in Auburn...

Solution? Send Girl A off with an increasingly drunk ME and hope for the best.

Elegant solution? I think not.

4:30 pm: Head with Girl A to Tiger Walk. Try to remain coherent and charming despite the booze...I'm always playing the ambassador(it didn't hurt that she was pretty attractive). But I can tell that my antics are growing a little tiresome for her.

I'm not really worried about it.

Then I realize that the only reason that I wouldn't be worried about it was if I was too drunk. I decide to sober up a little.

5:30 pm: Enter Jorden-Hair Stadium with 8 Jim Beam Minni's. Operation "sober up" is a complete and total failure.

6pm-9:30 pm: Lucky for Girl A, Auburn played well...really well. Even QB "We Todd," as in "I'm Sofa King We Todd Did," looked good. This slowed my drunken "march" (I mean ramble) over the edge into oblivion considerably. In fact, when the game concluded, there were still two Minni's left.

9:31 pm: Both extra Minni's go in my drink as we walk to the bar.

9:45pm: Meet up with my host for the weekend, Jeff.

Jeff doesn't get a funny nickname.

10:30 pm: Stormy informs us that she will be retiring to a hotel room in Montgomery with Boy B. Girl A, sensing an imminent loss of control from yours truly, makes a wise decision to head back that way as well. That leaves me and Jeff with my friend Jim (Beam) to sort the rest of the night out.

Midnight: Bars are a bust. Jeff and I stumble into and out of several. I decide it's time to go home.

My car is at the fraternity house.

Sunday Morning 12:30 am: Arrive at the fraternity house and go use the bathroom before leaving. While there, a younger member who clearly doesn't study his composites starts to give me the stink eye for being in the house. What might have turned into an ugly little shouting match back in the day, ends with him offering me and Jeff a warm Keystone light and him showing me around my old home.

Maybe I have matured...

1 am: I am walking out the door when my tour guide introduces me to a kid from my hometown, when I left for college he was in middle school (we'll call him Andy Frat), now he's an officer in my old fraternity...my my my how the world does continue to turn.

4:00 am: Yep. That's right. It's 4:30 am and I'm still on the porch at the fraternity house. The only people awake are me, Jeff, my little brother (a senior in HS being rushed) and Andy Frat...and about 10 coke heads from the bottom hall. We have consumed every last drop of booze at the house. Seriously, we are all choking down some lime flavored monstrosity when it becomes apparent we are going to need more beer.

I have definitely NOT matured...

4:30 am: After finding most of the gas stations in town closed, we venture to Jeff's house where there is a case of bud light in the fridge...probably glowing with a heavenly aura. I am driving Andy Frat's Land Rover...poorly. I am speeding (15mph over the limit) down Glenn (that's a big no no you non-Auburnites) in front of the fucking Police Station.

Basically I shot a man in Reno...just to watch him die.

I see that cop pull a Uey and I know it is all over but the crying. I pull over and start to stitch my asshole together with binder's twine...I'm going to jail.

Finding a kind of zen that must only be possible from total absence of hope, I calmly explain to my passengers that I will not be accompanying them back to Jeff's and instructing them to please alert the proper individuals and try to set bail for me as soon as one of them is sober enough not to be arrested during the process. I explain that I will do my best to keep them from joining me in the slammer.

Mr. Copper Man comes to the window and we exchange pleasantries and discuss my stupidity. He asks me if I've been drinking. I respond, "Yes sir, I had a few before the game but I'm fine to drive now. I'm just taking my little brother and his friends home."

He looks at the passenger seat and sees Andy Frat sprawled out in youthful defiance, still wearing his White J. A. Banks button down, orange and blue frat edition striped tie, green KD pin, Khakis and Clark's Wallabies. He then glances in the back to see Jeff and my little bro, looking scared shitless and quite young.

He takes my ID and goes to his car, trying to decide just how full of shit I am. (hint: it's at least this much)

He reapproaches. "Son, why don't you come back 'round here and holler at me?"
Seriously, ver betum...I'm gonna be taken to jail by a complete redneck fucktard.

-"yes sir"

We get back behind the Land Rover and that's where I put on a show like I have never done before...seriously, I am not a strong man, physically or emotionally...I cried during the opening credits of Titanic and here I was facing a felony DUI charge and I was cool as a cucumber....NOT!

I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. I remained in good spirits though. I figured, hell if I was going to jail anyway, might as well not look like a super douche on the police car video right?

I go through a series of field sobriety tests...and I MAKE THEM MY BITCH! Now maybe it was that the situation scared me sober, maybe it was the Wii Yoga I've been doing for the past 6 months, maybe, just maybe it was the Tiger T-shirt I got from the same company that makes these wolf shirts, but I nailed those tests. I could have walked a tightrope if he'd asked me to. I counted to twenty better than I ever did in elementary school. I stood on one leg like I'd been raised by flamingos...in a word, I PASSED!

Count it folks, SIXTEEN straight hours of drinking and I fucked a field sobriety test in the ass! Fuck that! I bent it over and did it without grease! The cop was pretty sure he was gonna get to slap some bracelets on me but no sir. He begrudgingly let me go with a speeding ticket. I drove us back to Jeff's house and proceeded to drink myself into oblivion...hey, I'd earned it.

Sunday Morning 9 am: Finally, bed time. What a long strange trip it's been.