Chapter 43 (cont.)

 

That’s What Friends Are For

 

“Party at my friend's apartment in Ivy Hall. I just got a fresh beer from the keg, and there's a knock on the door…it's the cops. I'm 21, so I have nothing to worry about, but most of the other people at the party are underage. The cops inform me the party is over, and ask for the residents. Having just got a fresh beer, I start to chug it before I leave. While I'm chugging a beer, most of the people in the party realize the cops are there…the cops go into the apartment, and start herding people out.

 

After the cops leave, I go back into the apartment to see if my friends got a fine. As I'm talking to my friends, people start coming out from the woodwork; bedrooms, closets, behind the Lay-Z-Boy, etc. They were hiding from the cops! Then we decided to call my roommate, pretending we were arrested and in jail…we said we needed him to bail us out. He responded (still drunk) that he didn't have any money, but would put it on his credit card.”

 

- Jon, UD '95

 

Real / Fake ID

 

“One of my friends requested a change of license from PA to DE. The DMV sent him a letter documenting his change of address. Then we passed this letter along to other friends, whited out the name, and photocopied the document with the necessary editorial changes (D.O.B, name, height, etc.) We weren't experts back then in scanning, none of us owned one, and they were quite primitive. All we needed was something to document that we were Delaware residents...good ole' Harrington dorms. Then my friends went to the DMV (I believe in New Castle) with this information, and it was entered into their computers. They ended up getting ‘legitimate’ fake licenses! If they were pulled over by the Newark police, their info was in the database. The DMV eventually caught on, after several people were going to this DMV with poorly photocopied PA letterhead, requesting a change of license.”

 

- Anonymous, UD '93

 

So I’m told…

 

“My birthday always fell during Greek Week, so it was a 24 / 7 party anyways. On my 21st I went to see Nickelback at the Bob, then met up with everyone at the Ground Floor. This was so far from my choice of bars to go to, but all my friends were there, so I couldn't complain too much. Since the concert ran late, I didn't make it to the bar until midnight, so technically I missed my 21st. In the next hour, drinks were thrown at me; I can remember seventeen shots and a few beers, then it goes fuzzy around 12:45. Next thing I remember, I was racing my friend back to the house when I ran full tilt into a parked car and flipped over the hood. Then it went black again, but I woke up the next morning in time to give a presentation in my 9 AM Engineering class. I was told later, that after I made it back to the house I was cut off, but went around stealing people's beers and running away drinking them. I have no idea how much I had to drink, but I was told I only puked once…out a third floor window.”

 

- Rob S, UD '03

 

Crunch Time

 

“Freshman year, my friends and I tried to be economical, and got someone over 21 to buy us a fifth of Bacardi 151 (nasty) and a two liter of Dr. Pepper as a chaser. Well, we then went to the train bridge, down the tracks a bit from Dickinson, past West Knoll, and drank to our stupid hearts' content.

 

Later, somehow we stumbled all the way back to a friend's house on Cleveland Ave, and we ate a huge amount of Rainforest Crunch. For some reason these guys had a kitchen full of it. I then projectile vomited from the porch, over the sidewalk, and onto the street. I am certain that not a drop hit the sidewalk, I had a nice arc going. After vomiting, my friend tried to get me to eat slices of bread, saying it would make me feel better. To this day, I can't stomach the taste of rum nor Rainforest Crunch.”

 

- Chryss, UD '94

 

Oh, Dear! Park

 

“My 21st b-day, in 1997 was at (the old) Deer Park Tavern. Since I was the last of my friends to turn 21, they were all there...waiting to deal the punishment out to me, returning the favors I had done them on their special day. 21 shots came and went. Three Wise Men, Brain Hemorrhage, Mind Eraser, Buttery Nipples...and then they got creative. ‘Oh, how about some...I don't know…OLD BAY and ABSOLUT!’ I remember it well. Then the barman handed over the manual; Pond Scum, Boogers from a Crippled Amish Girl, and other new shots were had. I did decline the old Jersey Turnpike when they wrung out the bar rag into a shot glass.

 

I even remember throwing shot glasses into the street, out the back door by Wonderland and the freight train tracks. They were shattering on the road and nobody seemed to care. Then, the bar shut, I walked out the front entrance and fell down the stairs. I was dropped off at Skid Row where I was living, and I vaguely remember pissing on a tree and rolling around in the stones back there. My pants were falling down.

 

I puked on the back steps of 34 Academy Street. I barfed in a storage container when they picked me up and carried me through the kitchen. I barfed all over my shit. I woke up with no clothes on, the aforementioned container still in front of me, my roommates in the kitchen, and my mom was on the phone...and it was MONDAY.”

 

- Keith W, UD '98