Encounters with the Authorities: # 1 (Reason Why I am Banned from Notre Dame for Life)
It was a beautiful October weekend in late 2004, the leaves were turning, co-eds were moaning, and frat guys were high-fiving. I was making plans to visit my best friend from home (we will call him Fatt Chopper) who was a sophomore at Notre Dame. Being a poor college student without a car, I borrowed a vehicle (red two-door Honda Civic to be exact) from fellow pledge brother/blogger, Berkman. With my weak skills at handling the stick (that’s what she said) I invited fellow p-bro (we will call him Will Mensel) to navigate our journey northward.
Upon arrival in South Bend, Will and I parted ways for the evening and I met up with Fatt at his dorm. For those of you who do not know this, Notre Dame allows the consumption of beer/low alcoholic beverages in the dorms (underaged or of legal age). Therefore, the first thing I obviously did was bring hard liquor ($10.99 plastic handle of McCormick’s vodka) to pregame with which is strictly forbidden. Needless to say, my pregame was a bit on the aggressive side (putting it lightly) so I was smashed before I even left the dorm.
Our destination this glorious evening was an all-female dorm to attend a birthday party for some girl named Rocki (spelling??). I think so was Mexican or Asian or something. Anyway, we entered the swaree and started to bump and grind while the lights were low, music was high, and phermones were palpable. After some time (could have been 5 or 55 minutes) I needed to “break the seel” so I asked one of the female residents where the nearest gentlemen’s restroom was. She proceded to tell me something along the follow lines….”Well, you want to go down 3 floors, over to the Northwest wing, take your first left, second right, and it’s just past the drinking fountain.”
Being the typical dude, I just nodded as if I completely understood the directions while knowing full well that I would never reach this final destination. In my defense, I did my best to follow these directions but I finally got to the point where I was about to explode so I just looked for the nearest bathroom. I saw the female symbol flash across the door as I hurriedly shove it open and rush into a stall. Yes, that’s right, I stalled it up. To this day I am still not sure why but I wanted to sit to pee (maybe my legs were tired from dancing, maybe I felt a little turtle head, or maybe I am just a huge vagina) but I did it. The last thing I remember is staring at the toilet paper depenser and starting to feel very drunk and dizzy……
When I came to, I was greeted by the cold shock of bathroom tile on my cheek with Will and Fatt pulling on my foot/leg. I stood up and buttoned my pants (which previously had been completely down) and exited the stall. I was greeted by the good ol’ black and blue of South Bend’s finest. I couldn’t tell you what his name was but I will never forget that jackass’s face. He knew he had me bent over (literally I suppose) and was just relishing in the opportunity to gloat in this embarassing and humorous situation. He made me take 3 different “drunk tests” all of which I failed terribly. I took a breathilizer as well and blew a .21 apparently.
To be continued…..
3 years ago • 0 notes