Dick in a Box

Freshman year was a pretty rough time for me.  Not only did my grades "suffer", aka I did not study and smoked too much weed, so my grades suffered, but also socially it was a challenge.  Although I attended a hippie college, where you think life would be carefree and lovey-dovey, I was still in the throes of an overly oppressive southern culture.  There were just as many Preppy Young Republican Southern Baptist supportin Fratty Mother Fuckers floatin' 'round.  Just enough to make you feel like shit for not wearing croakies around your neck and wearing Rainbow flip-flops throughout the winter.  

I immediately made friends with people that were connected all over.  I had many girlfriends in sororities, and of course, they wanted to bring me to all their mixers.  The only problem was that at the "University" that I attended if you were a guy, you had to BE GREEK, to PARTY GREEK.  And I was nobody's Greek!

So it proved tough to snuggle me into parties.  It always seemed easy for my girlfriends but it was always an awkward feeling for me to walk up to the doors where the guest lists were being reviewed and cross my fingers and hope that they would let me in.  Making your way all the way out to a party up the side of a mountain is not as fun if you don't know whether or not they will let you in.  

One night my friend Hilliary and I had decided to venture out.  I say the term "one night" very loosely seeing as how I am referring to the THURSDAY we went out in the same week as the TUESDAY that we had gone out as well.  Damn.  What was college REALLY about?

The previous Tuesday night Hilliary and myself had found ourselves at Klondike, the local fratty hang out.  It was THE place to go for ALL GREEKS!  Tuesday night was a private party for just Hilliary's sorority (which, to add, she later dropped out of).  When we arrived at Klondike we figured out that they put red "21" on your backhand if you were over and black ex's if you were under.  In our sober state's we left and went to one of her "sisters" apartments where we found a red pen and made ourselves 21 for the night.  When we returned to the Dike we found no problem or hesitation buying beers for one another all night long.  It was perfect.

So why wouldn't we try again on the following Thursday?  You are only a freshman once, right?

So we drank before.  Hilliary had what I would refer to as TOO MUCH to drink and I had "enough".  It was one of those nights where I kept drinking but "couldn't catch a buzz" pretty much because I drank so much during freshman year that my tolerance levels were through the rough.  For the record, it is NOTHING that I am proud of.  

This time we brought our own red pen and decided to "fix" ourselves in the bathroom.  Since the bathrooms did not have doors and the bouncers stood outside of them, this was a dumb idea.  But as I mentioned before, you are only a freshman ONCE!  Hilliary came out from the bathroom and LOUDLY said "IT GOES ON YOUR RIGHT HAND!"  I looked up and saw a bouncer staring directly at me, I told her to quiet down and she didn't get it, she was already a goner.  I guess that I did not think the situation through thoroughly because I fixed my hand markings anyway.  Later while dancing (let the record show I bought and had NO beers at the bar that night, even though I had fixed my hand markings) a bouncer approached me and asked for my ID.  I tried to think fast and I gave him my student ID.  This turned out to be dumb because it was also my key to get into my dorm.  First the douchebag gave it back to me and escorted me outside.  He told me to leave.  I went around to the front where there was a big window to the dancefloor.  Hilliary had made her way over and was flailing her arms about mouthing "what happened? what happened?"  I told her to come outside.  I motioned, I mouthed, she did not get it.  She was stuck in a box.  A dick in a box.

While trying to get my friend to come outside to my rescue the bouncer walked up to me again.  He apologized and asked to see my Id again.  Then he took it, told me that I could swing by the next day and get it from the manager.  Dick.  Box.

Then this douce-a-louche from my hall came up to me.  He was underage too and was drinking a beer out of a mason jar.  (did this prove to you how much of a douce that he was yet?  there's more)  Then he tried to calm me down as if I was one of his friends and offered to walk back to the dorm with me.  I figured I would let him walk me back since he at least had a key and could at least get me into the dorms.  The price to pay was high.

I had to listen to him speak about how the bouncers know that he is underage.  They let him drink from a mason jar outside of the bar as long as he does not bring it in.  I had to listen to all of this knowing in the back of my mind that one of his frat brothers had already told me that none of the people in his fraternity liked him and that he would be blackballed soon.  I began to understand why.  He also had braces.  He was a freshman in college.  And he had braces.  and he was a douche.

If this was not enough then there was definitely more to follow.  He began to ask me stupid questions.  I could tell that he was beating around the bush.  "So...uh...you hang around a lot of pretty girls huh?"  

Yeah.  I do.

"And you have been to the gay club before?"

Yeah.  I have.

This went on for the better part of our walk home.  It was not the longest walk ever to make way from Klondike to Frank hall, but it was long enough to make me wish it had never happened.  After a few more blundering questions I decided it was time for him to come out and ask...

"If you want to ask me if I am gay or not then just ask!"

He stumbled over his words a bit and then admitted that my roommate had put him up to it.  He said all the guys on our hall had been curious if I was or not and that my roommate had wanted to know.  I told him that if that asshole wanted to know that he could ask me for himself.

I was in a paradox.  How is it that two of the biggest fucktard douchebags on the planet could make ME feel so out of place.  One being this little kid with braces who was about to be KICKED OUT of a fraternity, which is so much more embarrassing than not being accepted into one.  This means that they THOUGHT you were cool but then realized you WERE NOT!  He had braces.  And he showed all the guys on the hall porn vids of young (under 18 yo) russian sluts.  Nobody liked him.  Even the people that said they did.

Then the other was my roommate.  A guy that had chosen to beat off in the BUNK BED BELOW ME every night beginning on the first night that we were there.  As soon as the lights would go off he would start up with it.  If this was not bad enough he was in the business fraternity and carried a briefcase to class.  He was running an investment business out of our dorm room and he NEVER gave me my messages!

These to fucktools were the ones making me feel singled out and awkward?  Really?

I should have just beat the fuck out of that dude with braces.  Let him tell my roommate about it and then beat the fuck out of him.  

I handle things a lot differently these days.  It would be nice to give myself a pep talk back then.