BCP, Parte the Seconde

And yes, that is a joke based on my post of some weeks ago on the Home of the Well Rounded People of Higher Than Average Level of the N.E.R.D. genotype. So, where was I? Ah, yes.

We enter the basement and are slightly dismayed at the ratio of fraternity to sorority members. However, the girls are all dancing and the guys are all drinking. I head straight for the bar to discover that pledges has been assigned to ensure that the members always have a beer on hand. This would sound like an ideal situation, but in the Land of Chuckles, this is a sub-optimal situation for retention of both manners and rational thought. To say nothing of the booty shaking that inevitably commences from the intake of copious amounts of alcohol. Telling all the guys from Kappa chapter to start mingling and have a good time, I start working the crowd and meeting guys from other chapters and colleges. This goes well and I have some good conversation until I have had somewhere more than ten beers. They last two guys I was talking to (from Eau Claire, I think) detail their pledge to follow me around and make sure I have beer because they are leaving. The pledge was sober and keeping count for me.

He disappeared after getting me maybe three or four more beers and I completely lost count after twenty some beers in about two and half hours. At which point I met a girl at the bar. She was talking to some guy and I stumbled up and asked for a beer. I started leering at her and asked her what house she was in and she replied with a chirpy "Kappa Alpha Theta!" I responded with a slurred, "My mom was in that sorority and so were all her female relatives. My grandmother was, like, the national regional chairwoman or treasurer or something." Which was music to her ears and seriously pissed off the guy who was talking to her before I wandered over. I asked her if she wanted to dance, which really amounted to waving our drunk asses and arms around the dance floor. We were trying to talk to each other but, really too drunk to hear and some dude bumped my arm and Natty Light went all over her chest. I said, "Here let me help you with that" and shoved my face in her cleavage. I proceeded to lick the beer off of her. Seemed like the thing to do at the time. I tell you now, I have not had a Natty Light since, because the fuzzy memory of the last one was so good, any others will not live up to that memory. Ahh, good times, good times.