Long story I have to make short
May 13 2001 at 7:09 PM

Response to The shittiest day of your life..

I haven't reread this or spell checked it so I hope it is legable.

My first year in university I went to a Catholic school. My major was Computer Science and I awoke one morning at the end of the semester to take my last C++ test. I knew bugger all and expected to walk in and fail within the hour. The tests were usually 4-6 hours of debugging and programming. I sat down and flew through the first three problems then worked about 2 hours on the fourth. The grading was automatic, each probably was right or wrong, I got them all right, so I walked out of there 4 hours later with 100% - that meant I got a B in the class.

Needless to say, I was extatic! And what do 18 year old college boys do when they are extatic - DRINK! I went to the packie and bought a liter of vodka, liter of triple sec and liter of lime juice, empty the old gallon Gatoraide jug in my room and mixed up a gallon of Kamikaze! As most people were done with school and back with mommy and daddy only one of my buds was around and he had a friend coming to visit him.

Let me say this was a Cathloic school and drinking was not allowed in the dorms. If you were caught, as everyone was at one point, there was a fine and community service.

At about 8:00 my buddies friend shows up, let's call my friend Joe and his friend, my new friend :), Rich. Rich walks in with a case of Sam Adams and the party begins. As I said no one was on campus except the few with a shitty exam schedual. What did we do? We sat around drinking beer, doing shots, watching the A&E Biography on George Bush - the first one. We were doing shots when anyone could think of a reason and every commerical break. After the show was over I stood up to use the john and fell into the TV. It was one of those "I'm not drunk" then you stand up.

I came back from the bathroom and couldn't believe my eyes. Joe and Rich are rummaging through what had to be $20,000 in $20 dollar bills. "Holy shit! Where the fuck did you get that!?!" I remember my reaction being. Rich looks up with a grin, "I made it on my computer."

The money was the real deal, well as far as counterfeit cash goes. A bank teller or secret serive guy might beable to tell the difference but to anyone else this was the real deal. Rich's uncle had a color laser printer and he order special paper then "washed" it in a cloths machine. It was fucking nutty!

Turns ot Rich got to our city that night and had already made serveral large purchase, put himself up in a hotel room and made numerous small purchases to get the change (real money) back.

What do you do when your 18 years old, you're tanked to your eyeballs, and you have $20,000 in cash?


As we were packing up the room - we had the cash and a jug of kamikaze in a backpack - there was a knock on the door. "RA open up, we smell alcohol" Fer fucks sake. The RA's come in and see the beer bottles and make us dump the remander down the toliet. They could search Rich cause he wasn't a student so the Kamikaze and the cash was safe. At this point it is more of how the story went then how I remember it - I didn't remember much.

Leaving the building Rich starts swearing at the RA's Joe and I join in and as we hit the street Rich has already threatened two of them and punched another. The RA he hit to was the buggest faggot in the bunch and we knew our balls were going to hang for this but were already outside so we decided to live it up while we could.

The plan was to go to a bar and get women - drunk college girls are an easy target, especially when you have 20G's in your backpack. The local strip club was out cause we were all underage.

I don't remember the bar but we all think Rich paid someone for a blowjob. Joe and I were working two chicks who seemed hot as hell but the beer googles were strong that night. We heard some comotion at one point and saw Rich buying half the bar drinks. He had a shit load of girls flashing the bar for a fake 20 spot too. It was a beautiful fucking mess.

In all the debauchary some dudes got pissed at Joe and I and one took a cut at me. I drop to the floor - I think we were working there girlfriends a little to well. Joe dropped the dude who hit me with a bottle and as I was getting up Rich was beating to hell some dude on a pool table. In about 3 seconds it was an all out bar fight. As I said, my memories are vague but after we ran out, seconds before the cops got there, we all were living like we kicked some serious ass.

It was late at this point and we decided to call it a day. The plan was to wake up early and make the LONG drive to NYC and make some SERIOUS purchases. At one point we were talking about motorcycles.

We got back to the dorm hooping and holloring the whole way. At the steps was the entire dorm RA team and the head of campus housing. Shortly after the police were there - it seemed like the night had ended.

And the night did end, well almost . . .

The school remembers the following incident as the two man riots. My only clear and distinct memory is when I knocked out a campus security guard who tried to restrain me. I was a wrestler, what was he thinking. The I had a circle of them around me - thank god they didn't have clubs - I fist fought a few of them then the housing director calmed me down with words saying "no one will touch you". From what I understand that's when the cops showed up. I was being a loud mouth and got in a cops face - he pushed me and took a cut at him. He got out to the way and dropped me like bad habit. Next thing I know I'm in the back of a cruiser all by my lonesome.

Rich and Joe were just sitting on the steps watching me fight everyone, that is until the cops tried to serach them. Joe didn't give a shit but Rich had almost 20G's in play money on his back. He took off in a full sprint through the campus throwing the money off his person. It took about 15 minutes before the cops found him in a tree - I shit you not, at least that's what the Dean told us the next day.

That morning was the worst morning of my life. I woke up fully dressed, with my boots on, under my covers, bleeding all over with an enormous gash in my forehead and I had no memory what so ever. Joe knocked on my door and filled me in on what he knew then my RA paid a visit.

I was to be expelled, sent to the police on assualt and inciting a riot charges, and the secret service wanted to talk to me. All that made my hangover feel good. Without a doubt - the worst day of my life.



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