Summary of a (solid) weekend 10/20

The weekend began with the car ride to the Champaign area. I had to do laundry otherwise I would have gone in Ed's car which left at 3ish. Ended up in Drew's car with Mike Jo, Elliot and Drew. We met at Hubbard at 8 and left at around 8:10. Stopped about 45 minutes at the Worlds biggest truck stop and ended up getting a delicious blizzard from DQ. The declicousness of the blizzard was completely negated by the smelliness of the bathroom, however. Got back on the road when Elliot pulled out 4 beers that he poached or something. Got to try a unique brew that you don't see every day: Red Seal. Took me a bit to get used to actual beer as I have been on that keystone for the past 2 months. The brew definitely grew on me; I gave it an 8.5/10. Please take that review with a grain of salt as Busch Light is like a 9.5. That and the fact that I've probably only had 10-15 different types of beer in my life.

I had an enjoyable ride up. Learned that Elliot and Drew can quote the Saturday Night Live Jeopardy skits like its their job. Also talked a lot about the IHUC house next year which got me pretty antsy. We were having such a good time that we decided to pick up a 12er of Busch light. Only thing that would have made the car ride better was a blow job from a hot girl with big boobs.

When we got to the hotel all I wanted to do was sleep. I think only 3 people agreed with me though. We got there around midnight and I managed to fall asleep at 1. I was immediately awakened by some of the rookies (Sergei and garret). These guys were flirting with each other nonstop. I don't know if they should be allowed to sleep in the same room anymore because shit went down once all of IHUC was asleep. Ended up asleep for good around 2ish.

Don't really want to comment on the tournament because we played well and I've got mad homework this week. Went 4 and 0 against the likes of Illinois Z (I think), Northern Illinois, ISU, and Depaul. I was happy to start off playing the 2nd best team in our pool because it seems that if you play a shitty team you end up playing down to their level and then play sloppy against a better team later on. I kind of wish we wouldn't have even played DePaul because it may have made us a little bit lazier on Sunday. They were clearly tired as fuck and played zero defense. Following this rout, the hotel crew went to a charming Mexican restaurant in downtown Rantoul. Garrett got served alcohol which is fucking hilarious.

The night seemed to begin after we picked up a couple Sparks from Caseys and then got back to the Hotel. IHUC just chilled and drank for maybe 2-3 hours in the room while watching some Saturday night college football. The Hotel crew was Mike Jo, Drew, Garrett, Sergei, Elliot, Schneider, Press, Crotty, Peter, Mitch, Mike K, Snorlax, Gleason, Me and Dudge. Sorry if I forgot anyone. By my count that is 8 rookies. Something like 6 of them will have puked by the end of the night. But lets not get ahead of ourselves... by some chain of events I did not witness Snorlax and Mike K decided to do a disc race. Mike K started off pretty hot and was about 3/4 of the way done when it all came back up. I was so excited watching the race that it didn't even occur to me that all my shit was literally right next to the garbage can he was yacking in. Thankfully no damage was done. I wouldn't have even cared anyways, I yacked all over my North Face like a month ago anyways. I don't even know who won because I had to take a big dump. I grabbed a brew and went downstairs to drop one in the lobby toliet. I was super bored so I just read the Busch Light can like 3 times while I was drinking it and pooping.

At this point it was like 9 o clock, maybe 9:30. Once I got back up to the room it was time to head over to the party. I usually try not to keep track of how many beers I drink, however, for the sake of this story I am going to include my estimate so the reader will have some sort of idea of what planet I was on. I was One sparks plus, and 4 busch lights up when we decided to head over to the Caddyshack Bar and Grill. By the actions of some of the rookies I don't think I was one of the drunkest yet by any means. Got lost driving to the party because Press, our DD, was probably taking shots in the bathroom.

We finally made it to the bar around 10ish. Maybe 9:30, I didn't really give a shit about time. We all got out of the cars and public urinated right in front of the entrance. I thought that was hilarious. Keep in mind that this is the kind of bar that 35+ year olds go to to just chill and get buzzed, not the kind of place you go on a Saturday Night to dance with girls and shack. I think it may have been a country club restaurant/bar but I'm not 100 percent sure. Anyways, we got a separate area for the ultimate party. IHUC gets in to be greeted by 4 Illinois girls. If it weren't for the keg and respectable bar set up in the corner of the room, we probably would have left. The room reminded me almost of a shitty conference room at a hotel with a bunch of foldable card tables and shitty chairs. It was really awkward for the first 10 minutes.

Much to my disappointment, the bartender girl was checking ID's and then handing out wristbands. I almost cried but then eventually balled up and tried to use Drew's ID. She called me out immediately as she recognized it from 10 minutes ago. I figured she wasn't the type to take an ID away (especially a real one) or to kick me out of the party. Anyways, I got denied a wristband and my confidence was shattered. I then proceeded to hide amongst the IHUC circle and poach 21 year olds beer. Gleason let me chug one of his and then I think Drew got me one too. I basically just laid low for about 15 minutes.

Now heres where things get messy. The bartender girl left the bar area to take care of some business. Some genius told me to go over and take some pulls of the liquor while she was gone. Once we had a look out in place I glided over to the bar and instinctively grabbed the bottle of Jage. It had one of those pourers on it. No matter, I stuck it right in my mouth and completely filled it. I repeated this 3 times until Mike Jo came over and took some hits. I figure each pull was about a shot. After we heard "poach," code for get the fuck out of there because the bartender is coming back, we returned to the IHUC group. I was already feeling the Jage. At this point I probably should have cut myself off but of course I had to keep going.

Had another beer about 5 minutes after the poach of the century. Then the silly bartender left again. Proceed to poach 2 more pulls of Jage. I really considered bringing the bottle into the bathroom and trying to finish it with Mike Jo. How legit would that be? After these 2 quick pulls I was feeling super loose. By this time a game of flip cup (rookies, only girls call it "flippy cup") had commenced. I think I got in for 3 or 4 points and ended up like 2/4 or .500. I think 1 more girl may have showed up along with some Southern Illinois guys. It had to be like 12 o clock by now and the whole party was thoroughly drunk. Not sure which came first, IHUC killing the keg or Garrett tackling Mike Jo into a waitress. Either way it was about time for us to leave. I remember chilling outside and talking to some girls. I don't remember anything that I said, or the ride home. I'm sure some of the things were completely obscene and embarassing. Luckily the girls weren't prizes and its not like they didn't have a good time partying with IHUC.

This is where the story actually begins. I clearly remember everything from the point of us getting back to the hotel. I decided to get Hardees. In hindsight, the nearest Hardees was a 2 mile walk from the Hotel. No matter, I needed an adventure. You know you've got good friends when they let you stagger out of the room with no sense of direction or purpose. I made it 20 feet down the hall when I completely forgot where I was and where I was going. I ended up going downstairs to the first floor, our room was on the 3rd floor. I then made a couple turns and realized I was 100 percent lost. I wandered for about 10 minutes and then made it up to the 2nd floor. Walking straight was extremely difficult if not impossible. I stood in front of 2 doors which appeared to be our rooms. I chilled there for about 5 minutes trying to get my bearings. I knocked on the doors after I decided that this had to be my room. Even though the numbers were nowhere near our room numbers.

While I was knocking I saw someone walking toward me out of my peripherals. I looked right and nearly shit my meal. It seems like no matter how fucked you are, you always have the same reaction to the sight of a cop. Only this time it wasn't just one cop, but 2. Not only that, one had a the sickest cop stache you could possible imagine. He looked like he had spent 5 years in Iraq and was ready to fuck up who ever crossed him in Rantoul. The other guy looked like a straight rookie. He was a huge dork, if it wasn't for him Id have a couple tickets for sure. Stache guy exhibited his alpha male status by saying hey buddy what cha up to or something to that extent. All i know is he said Hey buddy to start the conversation. I was still in a state of shock and it took me 5 seconds to even realize he said anything to me. I couldn't even form complete sentences in my head at this point, let alone tell him "what was up" without slurring and stuttering. I told him I was trying to find my room. He(stache) then looked over at the other cop and said "He's wasted." It wasn't the good "He's wasted" it was the wow, this kid is fucknig retarded, matter of fact "He's Wasted." Rook nodded and he asked me if I was drunk. I kind of smiled and said, "A little bit." I tried to look him in the eye and act as straight as possible while I said this but he still ended up telling rook I was "wasted" again.

Thoughts were racing through my head right about now. I remembered I was fast, I could out run these fucks. I could run down the hall, bust out the door and go to Hardees and get my fucking food. Luckily I still had enough sense to stay put and avoid more trouble.

Ok, so the 3 of us have established that I am "wasted," whats next? The guys must have figured that where theres one wasted kid their are other wasted kids. He asked me if the door I was knocking on was my room and I said no. He said that they got some noise complains and were called in to check shit out. I told him that we were done partying and that my team was asleep. He asked me where I was from and then he asked to see my drivers license. I had a feeling I was completely fucked because I'm 19 and we've already established that im fucked up. I was still optimistic though. I've always wanted to get breathalyzed and I was kind of hoping he'd bust one out so I could see how drunk I actually was. That would have been cool. He mumbled something under his breath about me being from Naperville, I don't think he was happy to see a Naperville kid in Rantoul. He held onto my Id and I was sure it was getting taken away for a ticket or whatever. Maybe thats only for driving tickets but either way I thought I was done.

The guy started banging on the door I was standing at saying "Police, open up." He did it like 4 times and no one answered. Thankfully I was drunk enough to get lost in front of a vacant room. After this, he gave me my ID back and asked me what I was going to do now. I told him I was going to go back up to my room and go to sleep. As he was handing me my ID I completely dropped it. I then bent over to pick it up and nearly fell forward, I was lucky enough to brace myself on the wall. If I would have fallen I'm 100 percent sure I would have gotten a ticket. I then apoligized and told him that their won't be any more problems. He said he didn't want to see me in the halls again which made me feel warm. I started walking down the hall in the opposite direction from the one where the cops came from. Much to my surprise, 2 more cops are walking towards me from that direction. I have never gone from being so amazingly happy to completely depressed that quickly. The cops (one girl one boy) asked me where I was going. I was about to respond when the other 2 guys said that they had talked to me and I was ok to go. Thank fucking God. Crisis Averted.

One problem down, 2 more to go. I still had no fucking idea where I was and had now completely forgot our room numbers. I also had to piss like a racehorse. Called everyone in the rooms number that I had 3 times and no one picked up. Nice. Managed to stumble up to the front desk. Another team was sitting there chilling so I treated them to some entertainment. I went up to the desk and drunkenly uttered "Where's IHUC's room?" Of course they have no fucking clue who IHUC is. They then asked who's name our room was under so I said, "Bradley, Brendan Kremer, or Gleason." They checked all the names and then replied with "Brian Gleason," and the room number. I don't even think I said thank you I just got the fuck out of there as fast as possible. I had to get up to the room before I ran into these cops again.

One more problem down, one to go. A logical person would have thought, hey I now know where I'm going, it will take me about 3 minutes to get up to the room where I can then pee in the toliet. A Winky person would think, hey I'm gonna take the elevator and then get out and pee in the corner of the area outside of the elevator and then walk 10 feet to our room and go to sleep. Fucking brilliant. Maybe I was in it for the rush or the excitement, who knows? I do know that my adrenaline was out of control while I was emptying the tank. Seemed like it took at least a minute. I finished and fled the crime scene as briskly as possible. Got in the room and the scent of urine,vomit, and b.o. caught my attention immediately. Whatever, I was just relieved to have made it back alive and without a criminal record.

Woke up the next morning or 6 hours later still feeling like I was 4 beers up. Decided not to play the first game because I was still legitimately drunk. On the whole I felt like a terrible person. But hey at least I didn't yack, or piss IN THE ROOM.

Moral of the story: If you are funny, you may get a sympathy pass by the cops. I'm pretty sure they just felt bad for me.