Tuesday, August 5, 2008

If you attend frat parties, your palms will bleed...

I meant to post this earlier but I was still trying to overcome the devastating injuries I suffered at the last Frat Party I attended.

2 months ago I went with a few girls and my plumber friend to an outdoor festival/concert downtown. We drank in the car. We peed behind tall buildings. We dared girls to kiss. It was my idea of a good time. Unfortunately, a hit and run and 4 hours later, it was 1am and we had nowhere to go. One of the girls suggests a frat party. I say no. She puts my hand on her tit. I change my mind.

Frat party 1:30am: I am owning the party. 100 people and my drunk ass is befriending everyone. Im shaking my pelvis like the Polish Elvis on the dance floor, Im throwing balls into cups like Dr. J in beer pong, im peeing behind a shed. Things are going remarkably well and Im pleased. Thats when I spot the basketball court. Plumber guy and me go down there. Girls stand atop the court watching. Perfect setting for a showdown. We challenge the youngest looking frat guy to a game. He is remarkably nice and lacks self esteem. He offers to get some guys to play. Plumber guy takes his basketball and throws it over the fence. He says the ball was a piece of shit. And so is his frat. I happen to agree. Frat guy isnt mad...just bewildered. He gets his guys. He gets another ball. Game on.

Thats when the idea strikes me.

I could totally dunk it. It would knock the panties off every girl out here. I tell plumber guy to pass me the rock. I catch it smoothly. My cigarette dangles from the mouth. I take flight at the foul line and by god Im jumping so high im above the fucking rim.

But somehow I miss.

Somehow...I went right beside the net and landed on my palms/face. Im pretty sure I slid for a good 10 feet. Everyone watching is too stunned to laugh or help. Pictures are being taken, blood is starting to spread. I know immediatly that this is going to be a nasty injury. It was. After 5 minutes of lying there asking god why he did this to me and crying, I decide its time to leave. Fortunately I am drunk enough that it doesent hurt and I just vow to never look at my hands again. I dont want to see the damage.

The night ends, the girls apparently have a problem with guys without palms. Skanks. I go home and decide its time to take a peek. Sure enough the corners of both hands are literally scraped off. My pants are soaked in blood and tears.

This is how I envision most nights ending at fraternity parties. Be warned.

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