I’m a little too much to handle for most guys my age. My roommate, Britney, found her “Knight in Shining Armor” over three years ago and they’re still going strong till this day.
Her boyfriend, Eric, is the perfect balance of protective and carefree. I can say, without a doubt, that no one loves Britney as much as he does, and he will protect her to the death. What I love about him is that he takes that love and applies it all of us as well. Eric is the designated dad of the group, and with my fucked up moral compass, he is definitely needed. His fraternity is the place to be when we want to get particularly trashed because we know that we are without any doubt completely safe there.
That all got put to the test, however, one night freshmen year. Britney and I had just signed our lease for the upcoming year and were feeling overwhelmed with our first step towards true adulthood. We were going to go out without any male escorts for the first time, and Eric was not too sold on the idea. I tried to reassure him, telling him that Britney was fine because she was with me, but that literally doubled his worries. In retrospect, he had a point. I’m not exactly what you call a “good influence.” In fact, I’m more accurately described as the devil on the shoulder. But regardless, I promised to have her back without a scratch. And if you have not guessed it, I failed.
We pregamed hard in the dorms, and even though I cannot remember with any degree of clarity what we were drinking, I’m willing to bet it was our trusted friend Burnette’s. After all, we were young, broke, and had zero respect for our bodies. Whatever it was we were tossing back, we had enough to stop feeling feelings. You know that drinking game all dumbasses play, “find your alcohol limit” or something like that? Well, we played it, and we always lost.
It was pouring outside but that did not deter us. Instead, we danced in the rain. Actually, one of my friends went back to the dorms because she did not want to ruin her hair. But if you ask me, we just lost the weak link, so I was not heartbroken about it. Instead, we half ran/half danced our way into downtown, half naked, straight to the most ratchet fraternity our lovely college has to offer.
The night was like any other. We danced on each other, on the bar, and screamed along to the DJ. We were every other annoying freshmen girl ever, and we loved it. Eventually, the shots and sugary chaser began to catch up with us and we made our way to the bathroom to pee. I would like to take a minute to acknowledge what a great fucking friend I am. Because up until this moment, I had kept my promise. Britney was having the time of her life, we were all out of danger, and were whipping each other with our wet hair and laughing. Sure we were way drunker than we should have been, but we were responsible.
But then Britney fucked that all up. Apparently, beer goggles are not exclusively for mixing up a trophy husband from troll, but also wall from shower curtain. With a fat ass grin on her face, she put all 90 pounds worth of weight onto what was very clearly a shower curtain. The fall could have been straight out of a cartoon, I swear. Her legs flew up into the air as she screamed and the rod came crashing down. I would have helped her, but she was stuck and flailing her arms and legs around trying to escape, so I just laughed at her instead.
Besides some scratches and bruises, she was fine. The bathroom? Well, she will never live down being that drunk ass bitch who wrecked what was already one of the most destroyed bathrooms I had ever seen. But after all, if serious structural damage did not occur, did you even go to a frat party?.