As I sit here writing this my body is still sore from the past 72 hours of debauchery that took place while visiting friends in Durham, North Carolina. Referred to as “Trifectas” by me and my 3 partners in crime, these 3 day weekends, beginning on Thursday night, consist of one primary goal: Making sure that all 4 of us are drunk/ridiculous every single night. Trust me, it sounds just as ridiculous to me as it does to you, the reader. Let’s be real, I’m 25 years old and no longer an undergrad, my body does not tolerate or appreciate being treated like an amusement park. Amazingly, though all four of us are spread out across the U.S. (Texas, North Carolina, D.C., and N.Y.C.) we all make an effort to meet several times a year to carry out this ridiculous tradition which was born approximately 2.5 years ago.
I will now try to recount some of the craziness/ridiculousness that took place.
Thursday:
-Arrive in Durham, N.C.
-Pre-game way too hard. I need to learn the concept behind “pacing oneself”. Four Loko is involved, and let me tell you, it tastes like shit.
-End up at a Duke Law School party at someone’s apartment. It is way too tame for the 4 of us who probably seemed like crazed lunatics in comparison to the rest of the party goers. This outing leaves a lasting impression on my own friend, who states, “Duke Law kids are lame.” I also partake in the clichéd and embarrassing “drunk texting”.
-Head to bar in Chapel Hill. Upon arrival, there aren’t that many people there. Our group posts up in a corner and proceeds to dance like tomorrow is the apocalypse. Later evidence (photos from the evening) show that while the bar became insanely packed later on, nobody ventured into a 10 feet radius around the 4 of us.
-My friend (female) proceeds to smack the shit out of another one of my friends. Not out of hate, but out of love. Her reasoning? She wanted someone to smack her and figured this was the best way to ensure it. Luckily my friend didn’t slap back, that kind of thing doesn’t bode well in public.
-End up downing late night burritos at a burrito chain. Don’t really remember this.
-PASS OUT.
Friday:
-Recovery from Thursday night is ok.
-Another one of our friends is driving in from Ohio and should be arriving for dinner. He simply is RIDICULOUS. The group is excited at the prospect that his arrival will usher in more debauchery.
-My friend hosts a party at his relatively small apartment and approximately 30-40 people show up. Heavy drinking ensues again. However, there is greater interaction with Duke Law students and we come to the conclusion, yes some of them are douches, but some of them are also awesome.
-Friend from Ohio dresses in drag in the manner of Lady Gaga. Nothing like a black man dressed as Lady Gaga with a blond wig and legs in better shape than most girls I’ve seen. Also, Four Loko seems to be like water to him. This excites and worries me at the same time.
-All party goers decide to sing along to “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. Nothing like 30-40 drunk law school students belting out Backstreet Boys. I believe someone in the apartment complex calls the cops.
-As we are leaving to grab cabs, the cops show up. In a drunken panic attack, Lady Gaga believes the cops are targeting him, as he put it, “The Black Tranny with Four Loko” and proceeds to hide in the closet with said Four Loko. Low and behold, it was merely a noise complaint.
-Head out to another bar in Chapel Hill. Everybody is looking at Lady Gaga and loving it.
-Me and a friend belt out “Dancing Queen” by ABBA during karaoke at my request. Nothing like good Swedish pop music.
-They are selling cups of beer for 25¢ ENOUGH SAID.
-In the cab ride back to my friend’s apartment, Lady Gaga wonders if he can trade a “hot cup of cum” for his portion of the cab fare. My other friend proceeds to ask the cabby, “Is this what you expected America to be like?” I’m glad the cabby seems to have a good sense of humor.
-Post-party at the apartment results in one Duke Law student mooning everyone to prove he doesn’t have stretch marks on his ass. Mission complete.
-Everyone leaves and for some reason my friend and I decide to engage in a fight with a sex whip that our female friend from N.Y.C. had brought along. This thing stings like a bitch, and after being beaten on the feet for what seemed like an eternity, I am able to wrestle the whip away from my friend and lead a counter-offensive. My friend claims I was overly aggressive, but it’s true, he had red whip marks all over his back the next morning. I also seem to have hit a pimple, drawing blood in the whip attack.
-PASS OUT.
Saturday:
-Recovery from a second night is a bit more difficult.
-Plan for tonight is to go to a Duke staple known as “Shooters”. Not only is this bar 18 and up, but also includes a mechanical bull and metal dancing cage perched a good 10-15 feet off of the ground.
-Several Duke Law students join us for pre-gaming. One is a former Mormon who speaks fluent Swedish due to having completed his 2 year mission trip in Sweden.
-Lady Gaga has a complete second drag outfit for this evening. In my opinion it reminds me of a Tina Turner backup dancer. My friend from N.Y.C. decides to go to Shooters simply dressed in a “onesie”.
-Shooters is a hot mess. Whoever thought having a metal cage perched 10-15 off of the ground, which is only accessible by a ladder no more that 1.5ft wide, was a good idea is either insane or insanely genius. I’m amazed none of us fell to our deaths.
-We all take rides on the mechanical bull with partners. I’m sure we looked ridiculous, but then again, Shooters is absolutely ridiculous.
-Several of my friends fall a good 5-6 feet to the ground after falling from a raised dancing platform. This seems to be a common occurrence at Shooters, and luckily they are drunk.
-Post-party at my friends apartment. When Duke Law school kids leave, 3 of us decide to attack all food that exists in the refrigerator and freezer. A debate then ensues about North Carolina’s role in the Confederacy.
-I walk into the dark bedroom to see one of my friend “dancing” with his duts (read: his dick and his nuts) hanging out of his pants. He simply replies, “Hey man, I just wanted to dance.”
-PASS OUT.
