United in Skank
I spent my first day of college classes vomiting in the sink with the shades drawn. I had arrived, swilling Malibu rum straight from the bottle by 9 pm, walking to the frat house in a pod of females, United in Skank.
“Um, don’t you think you ought to take it easy?” one of my new friends asked me, sippin’ her gin-n-juice.
“I don’t feel anything,” I shrugged. “Stuff is weak.” I did feel however feel the determination to entertain. I tried to walk on a wire suspended in the quad but managed to fall on my ass. The other girls asked me if I was ok, oh-my-god-ing about how wasted I was.
“I am not!” I said, thinking, shit, they like me! Finally I was free to be as dumb as I wanted to be. Gulping down more, I presented myself on the steps of the brotherhood. I was highly disoriented and with self-esteem roughly the size of my halter top.
I stumbled into the frat house, took one hit off a freshly lit cigarette and inhaled deep. A wave of light-headedness made me lighter and lighter until I realized I could not feel my face. I slapped myself on the cheek hard. Still nothing. I could, however, feel the bile rising in my throat. Oh no.
I crouched in the shadows by some bushes and heaved up everything that was not connected to my spine. Several guys stumbling across me stopped to make chit chat. But when I tilted up my head, the chunky dribbles of vomit oozing down my chin had them putting away their roofies faster than you can say Kappa Alpha.
Some magnanimous junior finally ordered her boyfriend to carry me to his car and drive me to my dorm. I apologized to this stranger as he carried me up four flights of stairs and left.
When I appeared in the doorway draped over the shoulder of a strange man my roommate sat up in bed. She was a mouse of a girl, frightened easy
“I’m going to tell the RA,” she said, slipping into her bathrobe.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be right here.”
- submitted by anonymous
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