While in college, there was a bar called the Long Branch, which was popular with the college set. This was primarily due to its happy hour on Fridays. They featured something known as Progressive Pitchers. If you drank in college, you probably know what they are. Pitchers start at a set price and go up incrementally in price after a set period of time. At the "Branch," pitchers started at 3:00pm at $1.50 (yeah, I know I'm old) and went up $1 each hour (I think - my memory ain't what it used to be and I was particularly drunk that day).
I had a friend visiting from home and five of us piled into my friend's car and headed for the Branch. We got there at the start of the "session" and got busy. I do believe that we had gone through three pitchers before the first price change. By 6:00pm, we had all consumed at least a pitcher each. And it was time to head home. But first, PIZZA! The five of us staggered / stumbled / walked to the pizzeria a few doors down from the branch, the same pizzeria named in my Good Friday post over on my regular blog.
So we get back into my friend's car, a two-door Ford Mustang, which he drove, a suite mate took shotgun, and I sat in back with my roommate and another suite mate, who we will call Jeff (well that's his name). My roommate (Joe) spent the ride back trying to keep Jeff's head up (he was mostly passed out between the two of us. He would call out, "He's Up!" while holding his head up and then "He's Down" when his head would droop down. Finally, as we were pulling in, on one of the last "He's Down," Joe felt drool on his arm. He pulled his arm back and Jeff proceeded to um, "return his pizza" on to the floor of the backseat.
We got into a parking spot and quickly exited the car. My friend was a little concerned about the extra volume in his car, so we started to throw snow on it to try and freeze it. Somehow that did get cleaned up - I'm a little hazy on the details. We managed to get Jeff back upstairs and decided he needed a shower. He was declaring that he wanted to go and see his girlfriend, which we all tried to tell him was not a good idea in his current condition.
Jeff and I had an ongoing battle over trivia. Jeff had the uncanny ability to tell you the square miles of just about any country in the world. So while we got him into the shower we bombarded him with questions about the square miles of countries that we could remember the names of. Not that any of us were in any condition to check.
By 7:00pm, we were all passed out in our beds. You would think that would be the end of the story . . . but no. We all got up around 10:00pm and headed out again. Including Jeff. As you might expect, he was hungry. So we went out to eat and drink a little more. When we got back to campus, we were in the middle of a fire drill. And Jeff got to see his girlfriend. And didn't come back to our room that night.
This is but one college drinking story. I've already related in another forum about the flaming 151 shot. It hurt. There was the time that I passed out mid sentence while talking to a suite mate. There was the time we were making "Blue Whales" and I may have been parading around campus in elephant slippers. Any of these stories could be retold, if I get your vote, sending me to the next round!