Football Season + Booze = Shenanigans

Ever had a night where you blacked out for numerous hours after drinking enough booze to float a small boat? I experienced a similar evening this past Saturday. While I was fortunate and apparently did not do anything too stupid, many people are not so lucky. Here is one of their stories:

Several months after graduating from college, I returned to Chapel Hill for a football game Saturday. My friends and I began downing bourbon drinks as soon as we arrived and continued up until it was time to head to Kenan Stadium. The walk to the game was relatively short but it must have felt like The Trail of Tears to my buddy, Scott. He was stumbling everywhere, slurring his speech, and generally should have been hidden from public view (think Gary Busey).

As we enter the front gates, Scott wanders away from us and runs directly into a small girl dressed in a UNC cheerleader's outfit. He immediately proceeds to throw up directly on top of her dome; covering her from head to toe in an alcohol stew. The girl's father could not have been more upset if he had found her pantless in the back of a conversion van with Michael Jackson. As steam pours out of this gentleman's ears, our friend, Chris, informs the angry dad that he is an ALE agent escorting the lush from the premises. His quick thinking allowed our overly intoxicated friend to leave in one piece.

The final whistle sounds and we return to the house to find Scott laying on someone's car in the front yard. Of course, he has covered it in vomit. In the meantime, another sauced friend has managed to steal a ticket book from a police officer (another story on its own...surely, many 18-20 year old coeds listed on its pages were confused and elated when they arrived at their court date). He then writes Scott a fake ticket, places it in his pocket, and we put him to bed.

Scott awakes the next morning to find himself covered in puke with said ticket in his pants. Of course, he has no idea how/where/ why he received the citation. After allowing the moral and physical hangovers to marinate for several hours, we inform Scott of the bogus ticket. To say he was none to pleased would be a terrible understatement. Moral of the story: don't get too drunk around your slightly less intoxicated friends. Ah, I miss college...