Sunday, June 19, 2005

Sojourn to Bethesda - Jeff's version

So, we spent this past weekend in Bethesda, MD, outside of Washington, DC. A couple things about Bethesda: it's expensive, and it sucks.

Why did we go to Bethesda? Because that's where our friend Clark lives. Clark had come up to Philly for the men's lacrosse championships at the end of May, and we wanted to come down and hang out at his place for a weekend. Kurt got the great idea to do a power hour (shot of beer every minute for 60 minutes) on Saturday, so I spent the week before getting a CD ready for the event: 60 one-minute song clips.

So, Friday rolls around. I finish the CD, pack, and then get the essentials: 60 Rolling Rocks, ice, and a cooler. Kurt gives me shit for buying beer in cans. Apparently, beer only comes in bottles and kegs. That many bottles would have possibly been disastrous. More on that to follow.

Clark bought 48 beers to get us started, and he had started drinking while we were on the road still. We get to Clark's house, and he had set up a closet door as a beer pong table. Clark started calling friends, and managed to get a couple girls to agree to come over. The girls didn't make it until about 10 or 11. We had been drinking since 8. I'm surprised that they actually wound up staying until the morning. We also pissed off the Domino's delivery guy. Two medium two-topping pizzas was "on special" for $19.99. What a crock of shit. The delivery guy wasn't thrilled with his $1 tip. Whatever, if you guys weren't price gouging as it was, you might have gotten a decent tip.

We played a lot of beer pong, and the girls were bad. I mean, really bad. It was a big deal when the balls actually started hitting the outside of the cup. One of them actually made a couple shots. Since the girls sucked at beer pong, they wanted to play Asshole. We didn't have any cards at the house, so me and Clark drove to Eckerd's to get cards. My dumb ass sees McDonald's is having a 2 for $2.22 special on quarter pounders. I should have just gone home and eaten more pizza. Fucking McDonald's.

We get back to the house, and start playing Asshole. We are all ridiculously wasted. Near the end of the game, I feel Ronald's Revenge coming back to get me. I am such an idiot. I try to make it outside before I puke, and am marginally successful, in that I make it just out the door before I start puking. I can hold back most of it, but yeah, definitely puked on the deck. I made it to the bushes to get the rest out. I really don't remember what else happened after that, but I woke up on the futon in the basement in the morning.

Saturday is Power Hour Day. We pull ourselves together, and decide to go to see Clark's parents to raid their kitchen for food. Clark's family is remodeling their kitchen, so the fridge doesn't have much on it. Disheartened, we go out to buy lunch. We get home, shoot a game of pool, and right as the clock hits noon, Clark decides that it's time for us to start drinking again. We play a few games of beer pong, and then everyone cashes out for a couple hours to nap. We wake back up, buy meat for burgers, and play more beer pong as we fire up the grill. We eat, and then realize that we don't have enough beer to do a power hour and have people hang out. We go to the beer store for 36 more beers, and get more meat and cups.

Power Hour time comes. We are obnoxiously drunk, singing loudly and drunkenly, and getting especially loud during whatever profanity was available in the songs. I'm sure that made the families around Clark's house real happy. After the power hour, we are obviously smashed. Somebody, maybe Clark, accidentally broke a beer bottle. This kind of stuff always starts small.

Suddenly, we start throwing beer bottles all over the concrete. We broke a good five or six bottles in Clark's yard. I KNEW cans were the way to go this weekend. And I was right. I decided I wanted to break a bottle off the fence separating Clark's house from his neighbors. The bottle sort of sailed, and bounced off their house, instead of the fence. I suppose that it doesn't help that we followed that by destroying a chair in Clark's backyard.

Clark has two friends coming by. They are not quite aware of the drama, and are just in time to deal with the cops. The cops were probably there just to fuck with us, and make sure we weren't about to blow up the neighborhood. I was taken next door to clean up the glass from the bottle and apologize to the neighbors. The husband didn't seem too upset. His wife was pissed. And probably had never heard a gunshot, because she said that she thought she heard a gunshot when the bottle broke. The cops told me to come back in the morning to clean up the rest of the glass. Since they didn't run my license, there was no chance of that happening.

Obviously, after that, we couldn't really stay out back and be loud and play beer pong, since the cops have already been called out, and know that we're drunk. We spend the rest of the night shooting pool in the basement. Clark and his friend Shannon apparently have a thing going where they write all over the other guy if he's passed out. Clark cashed out at around one. Shannon wrote "I love cock" on Clark's head, "DSLs" on Clark's cheeks, and "I got you!" on his leg.

Now, the crazy thing here is that the principal parties involved are all at least a year out of college, and gainfully employed, and yet, here we are, acting like 19 year old college kids. At some point, I'm sure we'll stop doing stuff like this, but I'm not sure when. Maybe after 45.

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