College Days Are Here Again!

A few weeks ago, bestie R and I decided to visit her alma mater for their biggest football game of the year and take part in some good old-fashioned tailgating and college-style partying.

The only flaw in this otherwise perfect plan was we had forgotten that we are both now five years out of college and therefore much, much older than the kids still attending. Like ancient.

On our first night in town, we went to get dinner with friends in town and the drunk guy at the table next to us offered me some free wine. Not one to turn down free booze, I accepted, and struck up a conversation with him. I obviously asked him if he was even of legal age when he told me he was a junior in college and asked me what year I was.

I then informed him I had already graduated from college. In 2004. To which he looked shocked and one of his female dinner companions visibly rolled her eyes. I exclaimed to R, "I think that bitch just rolled her eyes at me when she overheard how old I am!" Only two hours in and we already felt old and almost got into a fight...

After dinner, R and I headed to, that's right, a fraternity party. We had to sign in and show ID at the door and the older security guard who was working actually burst out laughing when he saw that we were well over 21. Later, just to mess with me, when he saw me holding a beer, he asked me for my ID again and then laughed at my bewilderment.

The party, of course, was packed to the brim with drunk underclassmen chanting their greek letters and freshman girls. The only refreshment available at the bar was Natty Lite, which I have not had the pleasure of being in the presence of for quite some time. (Well, after we sweet-talked one of the underclassmen, he offered us shots of Banker's Vodka, which is equally low on my alcohol barometer. We politely declined.)

But the highlight of this party was that there were familiar faces present. First we ran into Murray Hill, the same classy fellow who talked R and I into a rousing game of Spin the Bottle over the summer. He was (surprise, surprise) thoroughly involved in hitting on every freshman girl in sight, with no shame whatsoever.

A little later, when R and I decided we couldn't stomach any more Natty Lite and needed to head to a real bar to get some real booze, we ran into Zygote, the same 23 and a half year old who broke my foot on ChamPAIN Tuesday.

Well it turns out Zygote has a girlfriend, who he has been with for the past two years, meaning yes, he cheated on her the night he broke my foot. Therefore, he was none too excited to see me. After he did a double take to confirm I was indeed, the very same girl he had tossed off his bed, the little shit had the gall to INTRODUCE HIMSELF TO ME. As in he stuck out his hand, told me his name, and shook my hand. All while looking over his shoulder, worried, to make sure his girlfriend wasn't suspecting anything not kosher.

R and I took off, feeling old and full of laughter, and decided to call it a night since we had to wake up absurdly early the next day to tailgate. At 2AM, both R and my phone started ringing over and over again. I finally picked up to put an end to it, and on the other end was Murray Hill:

Murray Hill: Hey, where are you girls? Let's hang out.

Me: We are SLEEPING.

Murray Hill: Why would you come down to college only to sleep like old women? Come out and party with us?

Me: Who's us?

Murray Hill: I'm with my friend, you'd like him.

(Aside to his friend): Yeah I'm on the phone with two hot girls. Which one do you want, the Asian one or the other one?

Friend: Yes.

Murray Hill: Cool, cause I'll take either of them.

Me: You are disgusting. Stop calling. Good night.

The next morning R and I woke up to the following texts:

"Come over, I have booze and coke."

"Are you at the Comfort Sweets? We'll come over."

"Don't tell her, but I want to bang you."

And yes, he typed in "sweets" as in candy, not "suites" as in a room one may be staying in for the night.

When we ran into Murray Hill a few hours later at the tailgate, he wasn't even remotely embarrassed about what had elapsed over the course of the previous night; instead he didn't hesitate to brag to his friends about it. And luckily for me, Zygote was present, this time without his girlfriend.

R and I started screaming at Murray Hill about his sketchy behavior and R turned to Zygote and said, "Have you met my friend? She couldn't walk for a month after she hooked up with you."

Obviously, her choice of wording was not fantastic because Murray Hill turned to Zygote, impressed, and commended him on his conquest, all while I protested he was misunderstanding R's words.

A few hours later after the game, R and I decided to take a nap to rest up for the night when Murray Hill started texting R again that he wanted to meet up. This time, R and I decided to have a little fun with him. I called him and told him we wanted to hang out, both of us, so to meet us at the Comfort Suites in room 410 (we were staying on the opposite end of town).

The idiot boy actually ran over there and five minutes later called to say, "I'm knocking on the door, why aren't you guys answering?" to which we replied, "Just knock harder. We can't hear you!" before dissolving onto the floor laughing. About ten minutes later he finally gave up and texted us that what we had done to him was "not cool." Well, kid, that's what you get when you interrupt my sleep to attempt to pimp me out to your friends.

Our last night out, we were intent on keeping up with the college kids and stayed out all night before we finally called it quits and passed out. The highlights included:

1) Sake bombs.

2) More frat parties, including one at the football fraternity where the quarterback was getting a belated pep talk about what a great job he had done on the field earlier that day and started charging through the house, narrowly missing killing me and R (he was twice our size, combined).

3) Bar-hopping through town and hanging out with some very creepy local townies.

4) Me punching an asshole in the nuts and then yelling at him that I hadn't even hit anything substantial since he had "nothing down there."

5) A dance party under blacklight at someone's deserted house.

6) A snack and sandwich run in the middle of the night.

R and I didn't get up until 2PM the next day, but found ourselves surprisingly not hungover, due to the pacing of our shots throughout the night and the 4AM snacking.

All in all, we relived the glory of our college years and kept up with the college kids, but with the sophistication of city girls who have been drinking for much longer. And we managed to get through the weekend with minimal confrontation and awkward situations, one awesome prank on a deserving patsy, and the ability to brag that we can still hang with the twenty year-olds.

And that's nothing to sneeze at. Especially at my age.