I got slapped in the face... by a dude!

It was sophomore year and we were heading to the club. We pregame before we go and head out in Al’s car. My roomate, Ryan, decides to pop in a classic N’sync CD. Why Al had this I have no idea. Of course we have to sing it, with the windows down. So gay.

We get to the club, but me and Jeff head over to the a bar first, as there are rumors of $1 drafts. We go in and there’s 4 people in there. And drafts are not $1. But beers are $2 so we each get one, drink them and head over to the club.

Waiting in line, I’m looking at this dude next to me bitch to his friend, the douche, about how he can’t get in. The douche is outside with a drink in his hand, saying, "I got you, I know everybody here." For some reason, I find this situation to be rather humorous, and I am laughing. I tend to laugh a lot for no reason at all. The douche says, “yeah buddy, keep laughing.” So, of course, I continue to laugh. My laughing has gotten me into trouble many times before and it looks like it may happen again. Douche tells the bouncer to make sure he checks my ID very good and to not let me in. I look at the bouncer like "what the fuck did I do?"

I’m still standing there with a smirk on my face. The douche is standing behind me. He reaches around me and slaps me in the face. The bouncer says to him, “Ok, you’re not coming back in.” I get past the bouncer and look at the douche. He’s still pissed at me, so I say, “you’re lucky you’re fat, you fuck! McDonald's is down the road. I bet you won't have trouble getting in there!” He tries to force his was to me but is stopped by the bouncer. He is very drunk.

After being slapped, I really wanted to punch this guy in the face, but I looked at the situation. If I hit him I'm not getting into the bar. He’s about 6 foot, 220 pounds. At the time I am a lot smaller than I am now. Then I was about 5’9” 140 pounds. There’s cops rolling around outside. This guy claims to be friends with the bouncers, meaning they may let him pound me. I have Jeff, and only Jeff at my back. So I choose to talk shit instead of hitting him. A rare good decision on my part. But don't worry folks, I'll make what seem like poor decisions later in the night.

We get in and drink some more. The night is pretty boring for the most part. I’m outta money and not going to drink anymore so I gotta do something to end the boredom. Jeff tells me that he saw the guy who slapped me. He must truly know someone here if they let him back in after that shit. I go to the bathroom and get the brilliant idea to go find this douche.

We keep looking for the douche, and I’m thinking that the kid Jeff saw wasn’t him. I say, “let’s stop looking for him, he’s probably not even here. If we see him then we’ll do something.” We’re still walking around for a while and Jeff points him out again. “Chuck, he’s right there.”

I stare him down and walk up to him.

Me: You slapped me in the face earlier
Douche: yeah
Me: You SLAPPED me in the face
Douche: Do you like the Bills?
Me: What?
Douche: Do you like the Bills?
Me: yeah
Douche: Ok, I’m sorry
Me: (being a complete asshole and not wanting to let him off that easy) Dude you slapped me in the fucking face
Douche: What, you want me to do it again. I know everybody here. You wanna fight all of the club? (goes and sets his drink down, brings his buddy over)
Douche: (to his friend) I might have to knock this kid
Friend: (trying to be all tough) You got a problem with him?
Me: Yeah, the kid slapped me in the face. (to douche) what, so you think you’re better then me?
Douche: Yeah
Me: do you go to school?
Douche: What?
Me: You’re a faggot

He grabs me by the shirt and starts pushing me. I’m backing up. I put my hands up. He doesn’t let go, but he does slightly loosen his grip. I reach up and knock him right across the face. Solid hit. He almost falls backwards and lets go. Now he’s fucking pissed. He swings and I dodge it. But he grabs me by the shirt again. I just keep backing up so that he can’t reach me with a punch, almost knocking bar tables over. All of a sudden I see all these huge bouncers sprinting over. I put my hands up like I didn’t even do anything. Douche is still trying to come at me. Big black bouncer dude tackles him. One of the bouncers points me to the door but then goes to help the other bouncers throw this dude out.

Now a waitress or some chick who works there comes up and is talking to me. I tell her, "he slapped me and I was just trying to defend myself. I’m not gonna try to fight a guy that big." She buys it and takes my side. That was easy. She tells the bouncers she saw him start the whole thing. I am in love with her. I ask the bouncer if I need to leave, thinking if I’m cool about it that they won’t ban me. The chick tells him I'm ok. They do not ban me and they do not even kick me out that night. Guess I was lucky. That dude supposedly had connections there, which I think I believe, but he still got the boot, not me.

We stay at the club for about another 40 minutes. I'm kinda worried that him and his cronies would be waiting outside, but I’m leaving with a slightly bigger group now and there’s always a ton of cops driving around outside. Nothing happens outside and we head back to the dorms. Looked at my knuckles, and there was just one small cut. I was guessing I caught that on his tooth or something.

So I got slapped, and my shirt ripped a little bit, but that guy got knocked in the face by a kid who weighs 140 pounds and was listening to and singing N'sync on the way to the club. Hey buddy, I'll be laughing about this one for a while.

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Adventures With Bums

This is a story from last summer. Me and Steve meet at the square at 7, where we are already drunk. After listening to some music, drinking some more, and talking to a guy with an engineering degree who very well may have been a bum, we head to the bars.

I don't realize how drunk Steve is getting until we get our second drink at the bar. He's standing next to me at the bar while I'm trying to order the drinks. I look over at him and I see a group of fat girls standing around him. I watch in horror as he is suddenly making out with a morbidly obese girl. She is literally eating his face and he doesn't seem to mind it at all. Being a good friend, I walk away and take a lap around the bar. I come back and they are gone. He tells me they want us to go to another bar with them. I ask him if by another bar he means the Burger King.

We drink at various bars until 2 when I leave Steve. He's supposed to come meet me at another bar when he's done talking to some girl. I don't see Steve again until the next day.

Now I wish I could tell Steve's story from when I left him, as it is legendary, but due to threatened legal action by a minor league baseball team, that story can no longer be told in writing. I'll just say that it involves a dead cell phone and not knowing how to get to my apartment, drunkenly running bases in a minor league ballpark, stealing a giant cardboard cutout of a mascot, paying $6 to a large black man named juice for two garbage bags, walking 4 hours home on the thruway, getting picked up by a cop and dropped off 3 miles further from his house, and a video to prove it all. I really wish the story could be told with specifics but unfortunately it cannot, so I'll just tell my story, which is quite a bit less interesting, but still mildly entertaining.

I get a call from Steve, but his phone dies before I can get a location from him, so I decide to walk back to my apartment. There's the usual homeless guys walking up and down the street asking for spare change. Most of them look like they're just gonna spend your money on drugs and alcohol, maybe buy a chicken sandwich. I usually just walk by them but for some reason tonight, one intrigues me.

He is a black man in his 50s wearing a Boston Celtics jersey and pushing around a shopping cart with empty cans in it. I can respect a man who is keeping the streets clean of discarded beverage containers. He asks me for a quarter. I don't have any change on me, but I tell him I have a bunch of cans in my trunk. He follows me to my car with his loud ass shopping cart hitting every bump on the sidewalk. We get to my car and I just beat the shit out of him!

Just joking. I open my trunk and he realizes he has hit the bum jackpot. I probably have around $15 worth of cans in there from my last party. They were sitting in there for two weeks. Seeing how lazy I am, they'd probably sit in there for another two weeks before I got around to returning them. I fill up his cart to the brim. He is very thankful and holds out a handful of glowsticks to show his thanks. I grab one and he says, "no, you can have them all!" O, gee thanks. I didn't really want them but I accepted his generous gift. He begins to tell me that he will find something else for me next time he sees me but he doesn't have anything else at the moment. I tell him the glowsticks are enough (even though they obviously are not.) I notice that he is wearing a hemp necklace. I compliment it and he gives it to me. Now theres something I've always wanted: a bum stained hemp necklace that he probably found in the garbage. I accept his gift and give him some of the change out of my car. He is even more thankful.

He begins to talk about the breakfast he's going to buy tomorrow. That guy is living big now. He made a breakfast sandwich sound so delicious.

I tell him I'll look for him the next time I have cans. I'll look for the guy in the nice Celtics jersey. He then takes the jersey off and hands it to me. He's still got an undershirt on but I do not want this jersey. It is obviously dirty seeing how he told me he found it and he has no means of washing it. I don't really see myself wearing a Celtics jersey that is two sizes too large anyways. I tell him to keep it so I can recognize him next time but he says I'll remember his face. I do not take it from him, so he sets it on my car. O god, he's giving me the shirt off his back. What a generous bum.

Being the adventurous type, I decide to walk with him for a bit to see what its like to be a bum. He's pushing this loud ass cart around telling me his life story, which I can barely hear. We pick up random cans and he grabs used cigarette butts out of buckets that he can still light with the lighter he just found on the ground. He opens the tops of dumpsters to look for any goodies. No luck.

He tells me how his old shopping cart was stolen earlier in the day at the square. He had left it to go to the bathroom and came back to all of his worldly possession missing. Talk about bad luck. His wallet containing his only form of ID was on the cart, along with a days worth of collecting cans. Who the hell steals a cart full of cans? We continue to walk and I'm trying to get more information out of him.

After getting annoyed with not being able to hear him because of the loud shopping cart and his uneducated stuttering of words, I decide to head back to the apartment. I wish him luck. His jersey was never worn, but hung on our wall until we moved out, when it was then thrown out for him to find in the dumpster once again. It was an interesting adventure with a very generous bum.

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My Ridiculous Trip

After spending two hours at the apple store so Bob could get his I-phone fixed, me and him pick up a case of beer and head over to my friends house to watch the end of the sabres game and drink some beers. After the game we decide to play some drinking games and see if anyone wants to go out to the bars. No one really wants to go. Dan is contemplating then decides to go. Dan always goes.

We head over to Taboo. It's a Thursday night, so it's not overly packed. It's pretty much a big sausage fest. Brownie shows up to the bar to pick up his credit card that he had left there the past weekend. He hadn't planned on drinking tonight, he just wants to pick up his card.

Brownie: "you guys gonna be here for a while?"
Me: "yeah, probably"
Brownie: "ok. you talked me into it, I'll get a drink."

Brownie orders a drink. 2 minutes later, Brownie orders another drink.

We decide that Taboo is kinda beat and want to go somewhere else. Since everywhere in Lockport is generally beat on a Thursday night, we decide on Niagara Falls. Brownie agrees to go with us. Since Brownie's truck is much roomier than my car, he agrees to let Bob drive it to Niagara Falls.

On the way there Brownie is on the phone with his dad:

Brownie: "I'm just gonna stay at Taboo for a while and than head over to Vanessa's.
Dad: "ok, just don't end up in downtown buffalo tonight."
Brownie: "ok, I won't"

Club New York in Niagara Falls is full of a bunch of wiggers so we head to downtown Buffalo.

We go to Big Shotz. Brownie starts buying drinks. We go to Liars. Brownie continues to buy drinks. He's ordering doubles every time he gets a drink. He's ordering shots. He is drunk.

Soulja Boy comes on. Brownie begins to try to do the dance. Some girl comes up and asks him to teach her. He has no idea how to really do the dance, he's just throwing in a bunch of random moves from the dance, but in no particular order. We are cracking up. The girl gets pissed off because she is a cunt. She walks away. I continue to laugh at her throughout the night. She spends the night trying to get other guys to stick up for her. The other guys want no part of it and ignore her.

I don't know why but other girls get pissed off when I laugh, as if I'm laughing at them for who they're talking to or something. I don't know why but some girl is flipping me off. I flip her off. She grabs my hand and starts sucking my finger. She then bites the shit out of it, damn near biting it off. I try to show no pain, even though I am afraid of losing my finger. She is also a cunt.

Brownie pays the tab, which is $67 and, according to Dan, tips the guy $67, saying, "remember my face." The guy says, "o yeah, I'll definitely remember your face."

Dan and Brownie disappear to Jim's Steakout or something while Bob almost gets in fights for saying some outlandish things. I start getting calls from Dan that they want to leave. I eventually get Bob and we head out. Brownie is passed out in the passenger seat and Dan is driving.

Dan: "How do I get home?"
Me: "If you go this way you can take the 190. Just make sure you don't miss the exit for the 290."

Dan misses the exit for the 290. This is when Bob says, "let's go to South Carolina." I'm not sure how serious he is, but I'm all about it.

Me: "Yeah, you really want to? I can get out of work."
Bob: "I don't have to work until sunday night. Let's do it!"
Me: "Dan? Dannnnn?"

Dan has that stupid smile on his face and nods his head. We are heading to South Carolina in Brownies truck, while Brownie is asleep. I think that South Carolina will be awesome, but my main reason for going is that I think it will be hilarious if Brownie wakes up in a different state.

Dan continues to drive North on the 190. South Carolina is not North.

Me: "Dan, you have to exit so we can turn around and head to the 90."
Dan: "no, you can get on the 90 up here."
Me: "Dan, you're heading towards Canada."
Dan: "no, I'm pretty sure you can get on the 90 up here."
Me: "Dan, you're gonna have to trust me on this one. We have to turn around. You just have to trust me."

I begin to think that Dan is too drunk to drive. The 90 is in the complete opposite direction. Maybe he thinks we're on the 290? We see signs for Niagara University and Dan realizes that he has made a mistake. We exit and head to a gas station. Brownie is still sound asleep. We decide that it's Bob's turn to drive. We get some food and drinks and finally head South. We want to get as far as we can before Brownie wakes up. It is now about 4 AM.

We use the I-phone to get directions off of mapquest. Dan and Brownie are asleep while Bob flies down the 90 at an average of around 95 mph. Someone isn't going fast enough when the road cuts into one lane due to construction, so Bob passes them on the right, in the rocks, and nearly kills us. But he doesn't kill us and continues his ridiculous pace.

Brownie wakes up at 6 am and it's still dark out. He doesn't realize what is going on. I quickly set the clock back two hours on the dashboard display so that it says 4 am. I tell him that we are on the 990 and almost to Lockport. He tells us to pull over. We pull over and Brownie gets out to pee. He's leaning against the truck while peeing and is still obviously out of it. He goes to open the door to get back in and begins to lose balance. He starts to back peddle and stumbles backwards down the hill on the side of the road. He stumbles almost to the bottom when his legs go over his head and he backwards somersaults the rest of the way. He just lays at the bottom and doesn't get up.

I get out to try and help him. It's not good for us to be pulled over this long on the 90. I try to help him up but he yells, "leave me alone." Bob gets out and we carry Brownie on our shoulders and put him in the back seat. We start to drive again. Brownie says to us, "thanks guys, you just saved my life. I almost fell into that ravine." He falls back asleep with grass stains and mud all over the front and back of his shirt. He still has no idea where the fuck he is.

We stop in Pennsylvania to go pee and get gas. Neither Dan nor Brownie wakeup. We know we take 79 south for a long time, but the battery to the I-phone has died so we don't know how long or what to do after that. Luckily my brother is awake and gives us directions as we need them.

I call my boss at around 7.

Me: "hey, its chuck. Would it be a problem if I didn't come in today?"
Boss: "O, that's fine."
Me: "ok, because I'm in West Virginia."
Boss: "o, rough night?"
Me: "yeah, i didn't really even plan on drinking tonight, but I did and now I'm in West Virginia."

We weren't quite in West Virginia but almost there. Brownie begins to move and I think he is waking up. He unzips his pants and me and Bob start cracking up. He puts his hand down his pants and falls back asleep. I have no idea what that was about.

Dan eventually wakes up. It's starting to get pretty light out. When the sun is really starting to shine through the windows, Brownie begins to stir.

Brownie: "Uuuuggghhhhhh. Daylight!!!? What!? Why are we still driving? Where are I? Are we still alive? What? Where be we? Hills? What? Where are I? Hills? Why are there hills? This looks like West Virginia. Why does this look like West Virginia?"

Me: "because we're in West Virginia?"

Brownie: "What? Whyyyyyy? What? Why am I here?! West Virginia!!!?"

Bob: "Yeah, Brownie, you were talking all night about how you wanted to go to South Carolina so we went with your plan."

Brownie: "What? Nooooo! No I didn't. I have to be to work at 1. Why did this happen to me? I'm calling 911 you guys kidnapped me!"

Me, Bob, and Dan are cracking up. My stomach is in extreme pain from laughing so hard. Brownie is freaking out because he thinks he's gonna get fired.

Brownie: "pull over, I need to think."

We exit and park in some parking lot. Brownie sees a breakfast sandwich and says, "I'm taking this and you're not getting it back." He said it like we didn't buy it for him, like he was getting revenge on us by taking it. We just laugh harder.

Brownie is standing in the parking lot on the phone, eating his sandwich. We can hear him on the phone saying, "I went to sleep in Buffalo and I woke up in fucking West Virginia!!!"

He gets back in the truck. I am now driving and I continue to head South. Brownie continues to threaten to call the cops because we kidnapped him. That way he could have an excuse to not get fired.

He notices that the clock in the truck doesn't match the time on his phone. He asks why? I tell him, "o, it's West Virginia time." Without even questioning me he says, "o, ok."

He starts to call people to try and get out of work. He really does want to go to South Carolina, but he doesn't want to get fired. He tells us that if we give him $100 cash to pay someone to work for him that he will max out his credit card in South Carolina. We agree to this. He offers $200 cash to people to work for him friday and saturday. He finds people to cover his shifts but his boss is a fucking asshole and tells him, "it doesn't matter. If you're not at work by 4 o' clock, we're gonna have a problem." Brownie actually took care of things and had people to work for him and didn't lie and say he was sick but told the dude the truth. Yet, the fucking asshole still won't let him have the two days off. What a piece of shit.

Brownie thinks about just quiting because this guy is being such an asshole. He calls his dad to ask him if he'd mind if he quit but he doesn't answer. Bob and Dan are sleeping when Brownie asks me, "what time is it Lockport time?" I'm doing all that I can to not laugh because he still hasn't put it together that we just changed the clock to fuck with him.

He had been telling me to turn around the whole time but he'd get back on the phone and I'd just continue going South. After I decided that he had tried every possible option to get out of work I decided that we'll have to turn around. I didn't want to ruin his life by having him get fired or anything. It would be close but we should be able to get back to Lockport by 4. It's around 10 am, Lockport time, right now.

I'm too tired to drive, because I haven't slept and Bob and Dan are still sleeping so Brownie drives. He only drives for about 45 minutes and makes Dan drive.

We're making good time on the way back. Eventually Bob drives. Dan falls asleep. I then fall asleep for maybe ten minutes when we are both awakened by the original hamster dance from robinhood. It is the most ridiculous song ever and it is just blasting in my ears. I have no idea why Brownie has this song on CD. I will not try to sleep for the rest of the trip.

We continue to convince Brownie that it was all his idea. He begins to believe us when we tell him that he wanted to go south to get mason jars full of moonshine.

We get back to Lockport right at 4 pm, Lockport time. Brownie says that he is going to the emergency room to get an excuse to get out of work because he doesn't feel good enough to work.

I go home and take a shower then go play some cards and watch the sabres game before going out with bob, dan, and everyone else later. We try to call Brownie all night but his phone is off. I still have not slept.

We talk to Brownie the next day and apparently he went to the emergency room for heart burn but they kept him there for 5 hours because he had very high blood pressure. I wonder what that was caused by?

We never did get to make it to South Carolina but we hope to try again. Don't get too drunk around us or you just might wakeup in a different state. Unless you want that to happen. Then get blackout drunk around us and make sure you're driving a decent sized vehicle. We'll make it happen

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Race Week In Daytona

Me and Bob are in Daytona for race week. We are at a club and both of us are drinking heavily. It was a $20 cover, but all-you-can-drink until close. We kind of stand out because most of the people there are dressed like wiggers, and we are wearing long sleeved collared shirts.

One person who we apparently don't stand out to is a female bartender. Every time Bob goes up to order a drink she makes him roll up his sleeve to check for his wristband. By the third or fourth time it is getting a little annoying. No other bartenders have checked for our bracelets at all. Bob is still tipping her but we both agree that he shouldn't bother tipping her anymore if she keeps checking his bracelet.

Bob steps away from the bar without tipping. Someone taps him on the shoulder and says the bartender is trying to get his attention. He walks over to her.

Bartender: "What, you can't tip me?"
Bob: "Well, you keep checking my bracelet"
Bartender: "I'm just doing my job honey."
Me: "Don't fucking tip her if she asks for it. That's ridiculous."
Bob: "well, it's annoying. I'm not tipping you."

She flips Bob off. He returns the middle finger. She gets a pissed off look on her face and quickly starts walking out from behind the bar.

Me: "Bob, you're gonna get kicked out."
Bob: "I don't fucking care. I don't have to tip her. That's ridiculous."
Me: "Well let's just move to the other side before she gets back."

Bob just stands there and she comes back with a bouncer and points Bob out. The bouncer tells Bob he has to leave and starts pushing him. Bob is flipping out. He's basically getting kicked out for not tipping. He tells the bouncer that he can walk himself and "don't fucking touch me." The bouncer continues to push him. I'm still standing at the bar while Bob is pushing back and calling the bouncer a fucking pussy and flipping off the bartender. The bartender has a smile on her face and is waving bye bye to Bob. That is the last straw for me. I am wiping that smile off her face.

While they throw Bob out, I plot my revenge. I look around and see an exit about 10 feet to my right with no bouncer standing by it because they are all too busy with Bob. I walk closer to the exit, turn back towards the bar, and throw my full plastic cup of rum and coke directly into the smiling bartender's face. She is soaked. I smile and sprint for the door. No one is near me.

I go out the door and realize that it doesn't lead outside but into another bar. This bar has very few people in it. I am glad that exit signs exist because I easily find the way out of this bar and quickly walk out the door, trying not to look too suspicious. I walk back to the entrance of the club, where I see that the bouncers have finally managed to push Bob out the front door. I speed walk up to Bob:

Me: "Bob, go. We gotta get outta here. Bob. Bob, we gotta go."
Bob: "Fuck that! I'm standing right here."
Me: "Bob, you don't realize what I've just done. Trust me, we gotta go."
Bob: "Fuck them, I'm standing right here."

I see a bunch of big dudes come out of the other bar and start running towards me.

Big Dudes: "Get the fuck back here! He's in the blue striped shirt."
Me: "Bob run. Bob run!"
Bob: "Fuck this place."

Bob doesn't move so I leave him behind and start sprinting down the street. I can hear the big dudes yelling behind me. I run by three cop cars parked outside with the officers standing by their cars. I quickly turn up the closest street and turn down the next street up. I am getting out of breath. I look behind me and don't see anyone following anymore. I stand behind a tree and take my striped shirt off. I continue to walk down the street, looking for somewhere that will be easy for Bob to find me. I spot a big red sign that says Desert Hotel. I run across the street and hide in the parking lot of the hotel. Bob calls me:

Bob: "Did you throw your drink at the bartender?"
Me: "Yeah."
Bob: "That is awesome!!!"
Me: "How'd you find out?"
Bob: "I seen this group of big dudes running out of the bar yelling, 'No one throws a drink at my bartenders!' and I knew it had to be you. Where are you?"
Me: I'm on Atlantic Blvd, a ways down. Whatever street you go down just turn North on Atlantic and you'll find me. Look for the Desert Hotel."

I eventually spot Bob's big red van and he picks me up. We get away without getting a beating or getting arrested. I got revenge on that bitch for us. I hope she cried.

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