You Might Have a Drinking Problem If…

I remember one morning my best college friend and I had woken up hung over. I’m pretty sure I skipped a test. And work. And sunlight that day. And anything other than Diet Coke and Wheat Thins.

The night before we had been at a fraternity party and the cops came, presumably to bust up our fun. My friend and I were in the back yard with about two hundred other college students and standing right in front of the cops.

The cops decided to be pretty cool and told everyone they had sixty seconds to put down whatever they were drinking and leave the party.

My friend and I both had unopened beers.

I remember my friend saying “Sixty seconds? We could drink two beers!”

And we both opened our beers and chugged them.

I’m not sure how we didn’t get arrested, but we didn’t that night.

Another night, I had decided I had had too much to drink, and the responsible thing to do was walk home with my favorite frat boy crush to where I lived right by campus. Which was a garage apartment. I might add, although not relevant to the story, this was during a time where there was a TCU {Texas Christian University} rapist on the loose and if my garage apartment had to be described by the Three Little Pig standards, my place would have been the first to have been blown down.

The AC units were held in by very sturdy card board. And boys were very quick to want to walk you home during this time. Especially in the shack I lived in. I’d like to take a moment to thank the boys, especially the one’s who all lived in Jim Squires house. I was walked home more times by those guys than I could ever begin to count. Sorry I broke your porch swing that one night. Who knew you weren’t supposed to swing that high? My bad. Whatever happened to Jim Squires? Do you still have a band? Note to self… must google and search social media when I finish typing. Does Byron still play stand up bass? Did Josh ever become a geologist. Are y’all still friends with Will Sykes, and is he still hot? So much research to do…

Back to the story.

I was walking home with my SAE {which everyone knows stands for Same-Assholes-Everywhere} crush, and I started to get sick. Like, violently ill. And lo and behold, who shows up but the TCU popo. They get out of the Jeep Cherokee and begin asking if I’m intoxicated.

“No. She just ate something that didn’t agree with her,” the SAE rationally said.

I continued to puke and the officer said it smelled like alcohol and he would have to drive us both to where we lived separately. I became livid.

“WE’RE WALKING HOME. GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK. WE’RE IN COLLEGE, WE CAN GO BACK TO MY PLACE IF WE WANT TO.”

More rational Same Asshole Everywhere is trying to pull my arms and whisper to me he’ll just drive back over, to which I start my tyraid again.

“Can you even stop us? We’re on a public street.”

Then the officer informed me I was actually two feet on the TCU campus, and if I had puked two feet away they wouldn’t have jurisdiction. This enraged me even more.

“SO YOU’RE GOING TO DROP HIM OFF SO HE CAN GET IN HIS CAR AND DRIVE BACK OVER, WELL THAT SEEMS LIKE A BRILLIANT PLAN.”

SAE boy and I ended up in alcohol and drug awareness classes together because of my always on point mouth.

I stand by what I said though. Walking was much safer. At least when we finished our classes we walked to The Pub. And I didn’t get sick walking home again. And if I did, I made sure to puke in the middle of the public street.

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