The remainder of my Friday at the University of Illinois’ Unofficial St. Patty’s Day celebration wasn't anything too outrageous. We hopped a couple more parties and ultimately ended up at an apartment where the group of girls I was with knew EVERYBODY. A couple of things to highlight here:
JV got virtually raped on the dance floor with all her clothes on. Watching her dance, I didn't know whether to stop her dance partner, or just keep looking on in awe that sex could possibly be had without ever actually removing any clothing or exposing any type of genitalia.
I almost got into a fight with some black girl because I was “dancing in her space.” She tried to challenge me to an “ass off” – in which we tried to see who could actually push the other farther by only using the force of the rear end. Of course I, with the superior lower body strength, won.
Upon seeing my dancing skills, some gay guy thought it would be a good idea to rub his trunk into my junk. Not happening. I immediately pushed him away as hard as I could and let him know that I preferred the warmth of a good vagina rather than a pulsating penis.
We drank and drank and drank the night away. Overall, I passed out pretty happy.
Most of Saturday was a pretty chill day. We planned on getting homework done at the library, but decided that catching on sleep with a nap was more important.
For the night, we arranged a pregame party at the apartment we were staying at prior to heading out to the bars. People arrived and the drinking began around 9:20pm. Having had quite the number of shots and mixed drinks in such a short amount of time, I was already reaching drunkenness by the time we left at 9:50pm.
We got to Clybourne’s, the local hotspot on campus, around 10pm. The line was ridiculously long. Drunk, we waited here for a good 20-25 minutes. After JV’s freshly pierced nips were exposed in a hilarious photo taken with some random creeper, we decided to head to another bar called Fubar.
“You got in?” “We got right in.” (That’s a Superbad reference for all of you who are not familiar with one of the funniest movies ever made).
We got in and it was time to start drinking heavily once again. As my drunkenness increased, I turned into a dance machine. The pop and lock, the robot, the stanky leg, the moon walk; you name it I had it down. Oh yes, I Soulja Boyed just about everyone and everything in that place. I even attempted to spread my dancing joy to others around me who seemed to not be having as much fun as I was.
I also turned into a dick getting machine for my female companions. I was well aware that these girls needed some Penis in their Vaginas. So I went into search and destroy mode, playing Pussy/PenisMatchMaker like it was nobody’s business.
Now, I liked hanging out with the girls because it provided me with some new perspective on life. But I was longing for my fellow wolves. WhiteRice and the rest of the dudes rolled through shortly after we arrived and after I promised “There’s sooo much pussy here.”
Some random dude liked my “style”, so he asked for a few pointers as he was from out of town. I let him know that for the Chicago-land girls, a guy had to play the sweetheart card. He thanked me for the tip, which I mostly bullshitted, and asked, “You wanna go get some pussy?” Which I thought was quite funny.
I played womanizer for a bit and took pictures with girls like they were giving me head. They got on their knees, I motor boated some boobs, and I licked some body. I was trashed by way of Rum & Coke, a few free drinks from the bartender, and my trusty flask filled with straight Vodka by the end of our time at the bar.
Around 2am we were forced to leave so we headed to a local house party. Being really drunk is amazing because you skip all the boring parts of life, like walking to places and peeing in alleys, and you fast forward right to the next party. We arrived at some condo that looked like an industrial themed techno club complete with lasers and skimpily dressed people. WhiteRice and I felt out of place. As we were returning from the keg, some tool had the nerve to say something smart to me.
This night could turn out to be not so fun after all.
I was already uncomfortable and felt out of place. That whole thing about alcohol intensifying your mood is absolutely 100% true. I began to feel paranoid; like no one was comfortable having us there. The only rational thing for me to do was to pull out the heat I was packing; a 6 inch butterfly knife.
Silly me.
I began to whip it around, as if to taunt anyone who was looking at me. Luckily WhiteRice instructed me to finish my beer.
“I can’t take this anymore man. Lets get the fuck out of here.” I said. --- Quite possibly the smartest thing I did all night.
My mood bettered within minutes of us leaving. We met up with the girls over at the local Pizza Place. Here, I made everyone aware that all the girls I was with “Where my bitches,” and that “This was my pussy.” I scared a straight kid, who complimented JV on her beauty; into telling me he was gay, because I accused him of “Trying to take my pussy.”
My night ended with a delicious Gyro at a spot where the story was the same. I went around and greeted everyone in the restaurant and asked them if they were getting pussy that night.
“Are you getting pussy? Are YOU getting pussy tonight? Will you promise me that you’ll get some pussy tonight? Will you make sure he gets some pussy tonight? Because I’m really concerned about you guys getting some pussy tonight.”
And then I woke up the next morning, fully clothed, contacts in, and with everything in my pockets. I felt unusually happy in the morning. I was still drunk. However it would only take another hour or so for me to feel the awesome hangover.
Thank you UofI, for a wonderful Unofficial weekend.
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