Need a quick Doom Break? - "My First College Halloween Party"

My First College Halloween Party

It was the fall of 2005, and I remember it as vividly as the time I discovered masturbation. The backdrop was one of irony in itself; the place was a beautiful, budding private University in the heart of Texas, however just outside of the campus’ “bubble” laid utter, Texas-ghetto wasteland. Just as inside the bubble, all races were represented well in number outside the bubble, even though they bear little resemblance to their pigmented counterparts otherwise.
When I say that these were a different class of people, I’m saying that the hardest Thug from Detroit or the Wildest Wildman from West Virginia would say “Fuck That” when confronted by some of the choice representatives of that district in which I speak of that I have seen for my very own eyes. With faces that haunt you in your dreams, while at the same time making you scoff at those who are appalled at those they see on the internet via places such as “facesofwalmart.com” (Sic).
I give you this information for you to understand that this, the biggest party of the year for a freshman in college, was being thrown at a large venue outside of the bubble.
Let me backtrack yet again and tell you that my Freshman year at said University (and by year I mean semester) was not your typical freshman experience. I had a very nice, brand new dorm room, where I shared a 4/2 room with 6 dudes, all upper-class tech geeks. It is safe to say that even if this book becomes a best seller, that two of them will be considered bigger successes in my eyes. Problem is, I didn’t hang out with those retards because I liked to have fun.

I had about 4 hometown friends who lived together at the edge of campus in a big 4/4 apartment, all going to school at University together. We are all, to this day, as close as brothers, and although I never lived there with them, anyone of them would tell you I lived there that fall semester.
OK. So Halloween Night rolls around.
I packed really light for college, because, honestly, I don’t own many possessions. I don’t like to shop for clothes, and I spend most my money on, let’s say, perishable items at this point in my life. Also, I've never been good at planning; in fact I’m damn terrible at it. I’m so spur of the moment that 9 out of 10 of my bowel movements hit Threat Level Orange before I get to the bathroom. By the way, don’t trust ANY grown man who says he’s never shit himself as an adult. He is a fucking LIAR.
Anyways, being a man who has hardly any money, doesn't plan ahead, and doesn't own many clothes and or possessions, come up with what could potentially be his Introduction into the world of College Tang…
But how the fuck was I to pull this off? I had to be creative.
I found three key items that I used to form what I thought to be the appropriate lady-attention-grabbing costume I was shooting for:
1) An authentic, 100% alpaca (or some shit, it was UNCOMFORTABLE as fuck) poncho type garment I had gotten on a trip to Mexico, which is actually a great story in itself. (Aren't all Mexico trips’?) (Don’t I use Parenthesis’ a lot)
2) A beanie, skull cap, toboggan, whatever you want to call it, that I got from who knows where. It was black and had in big yellow lettering across the front, “CORONA”.
3) One Black Permanent Sharpie
The sharpie was one of the roommates ideas, as while testing out the costume just minutes after putting it together, we came up with an alter ego I could put on for the night, as we both danced inside the liquor store to buy a big ass bottle of Whiskey for him and I to split.

*Note. I have like a 32nd Choctaw Indian in me, but that is not an excuse for my pitiful excuse of an alcohol tolerance. A baby could drink me under the table.*

So the whiskey is out, the pre-party apartment is in full swing back at the apartment, and “Dirty Sanchez” is a HUGE hit. The upstairs neighbors (4 chicks) had even come down, and were digging them some Sanchez. The problem here was, the Sanchez was digging some Sanchez a little too much too fast…
I remember leaving for the party in several vehicles, and for the sake of the children, each had a DD. I remember one of the upstairs chicks, dressed as a pirate, telling me how cute I was and trying to make out with me in the back of the SUV I was riding in, but I was too drunk to do anything, though I desperately wanted to.
Once to the venue, we had to walk a ways…
We were now in the jungle, outside my precious Bubble I had just started becoming accustomed to, and to make matters worse, a half gallon of jack is starting to settle in my virgin liver. I don’t know how I made it to the line outside the door, and I REALLY don’t know how I made it from our initial place in line to the front of the line, but I DO remember how I got past the bouncer; leaning on a friend with 70 percent of my weight or so, and incoherently handing him my driver’s license to show I was 18. Luckily for my it was a frat thrown party, and they don’t really care about shit like that.
I remember a few things after that:
1) I found a bar on the right hand side of the huge dance club (which was packed with scantily clad pussy that, without the ability to walk, talk, or not drool on myself, I could not touch, smell, nor taste) and I sat my ass down and pretended I was praying.
2) I remember being able to get from there to the bathroom to throw up at one point. I also remember while there not being able to get up off the ground and being mocked by several dudes in Halloween outfits, a really weird feeling. I remember a guy asking for a cigarette, and then taking my whole pack, as I could do nothing to stop him.
3) Eventually, I remember my friend, Big Cat, came to my rescue, as surprised as I was to find me in the corner of what had to be one of the filthiest places on earth at that moment.

Once rescued by Big Cat, I was dropped back off at my stool on the counter to pass back out until closing time, which I did, almost too perfectly.
With no sight of my friends, the immediate inability to explain my whereabouts or operate my phone, I stumbled outside the club and around the side of the building to hide out from the police that were surely going to be showing up for me soon.
Eventually, a cop showed up. I knew the drill, I’d seen the videos. I wanted no part of a sobriety test.
My plan was to let him know just how sober I was without talking… So what did I do? I reached into my pocket, pulled out a snuff can and, while staring the deputy dead in the eye, put in the fattest fucking hog-leg of a dip you have ever seen in your life.
Funny thing was, it worked. He asked what I was doing, and I managed to tell him I was waiting on a ride without sounding like a drunk. After that short exchange, he was on his way, my friends magically showed up asking where I had been, and I proceeded back to the apartment, pussy-less, and vomiting my ass off from liquor and chewing tobacco.
And that… Was my first College Halloween party.