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 What Fred DidPosted 02.08.2006 by Cracktacular (228)
I have a friend whom I shall call Fred. Fred and I went to college together and, as a result, shared some of the best moments of our lives. Fred's an average guy. He always treated women with respect, he got decent grades in his classes, he joined in the stupid eating contests that we would organize in the dorm, and he never really had bad stuff to say about anybody. Fred only suffered from one vice: he drank too much. It wasn't all the time, but on the occasion that he decided to throw a few back you better get off the tracks because the train's a'comin'.
Just to give you a barometer on this guy: we were once in Mexico when he decided to declare a new national holiday called Tequila Tuesday. A night of glorious Tequila Tuesday festivities ended with Fred attempting to pick a fight with a donkey. Yes, a donkey. Most of the time when Fred would drink it was a cause for celebration, because you were pretty much guaranteed that something funny was going to happen. This story is no exception. Like most gentlemen in college, I was way more interested in meeting hot girls than actually getting any work done. There was one lovely girl in my cell bio class with whom I was particularly smitten. Leah had everything going for her. She was beautiful, hot, sexy, and attractive. On top of all that, she was pretty smart. I started sitting next to her on a consistent basis and engaged in idle chitchat about roommates, professors, and so on. I could tell that the magic was happening. Oh, yes, there was magic. Then, finally, Leah invited me over to her apartment on a Friday night. She told me that she was just going to have some of her girlfriends over and hang out and throw on a movie or something. Trying to keep it casual, I asked if it was cool if I brought Fred along with me. After all, he was into hot chicks, too. She agreed, and we parted ways for the afternoon. Now bear in mind that in all of my discussions with Leah over the course of the semester, she never once mentioned drinking as one of her pastimes. Little did I know what a boozehound she really was. Fred was on the invitation like a hobo on a hot dog. He was excited; but the cool thing was that he was mostly excited for me. He knew that I had been sweet on this girl for quite a while, so Fred was keen on making a good impression. Now, he and I are not model material, but we clean up pretty nice. We put on our best Eau d'You Want Me cologne and headed out the door. Her apartment was clear on the other side of campus, so we decided to drive. I was the not-so-proud owner of a barely street legal piece of shit at the time, so Fred drove. He had a decently nice pick-up truck. We were in for a surprise when we got there. We knocked on the door and like a half a second later we were pulled inside by two of Leah's friends. I could see the grin dance across Fred's face when we saw all five of them, all attractive, all in their PJ's, all parked in front of the TV. I uttered a quick prayer of thanksgiving to Jesus whom I love very much. I also noticed quite a bit of drinking going on and everyone seemed to be in a really good mood. I felt like I had some catching up to do, so I started throwing shots back. I can only assume that Fred was throwing them back, too, but I was so tunnel-visioned on Leah that I just sort of cut him loose -- which is akin to giving a Jenny Craig client a gift card to Fatburger. No good can come of that. Leah and I were having a great time and it seemed like Fred was really amusing the other guests. After a while the evening started to slow down a little bit. We turned the TV off, turned the lights down, and turned the stereo on. Leah and I started dancing and Fred was still holding the attention of the other ladies. Everyone had slowed down their drinking -- everyone except for Fred. One by one, the other girls left. I told Leah that we had driven over and that neither one of us should drive back. She just sort of winked at me and said, "Well, I guess you guys will just have to spend the night." So she and I cuddled up on the couch. Fred, completely lit, passed out in the corner. The music was on nice and low. I'm no player, but I know all the moves. I started playing with the hair, ears, neck, yada, yada, yada -- sparing you some of the details, we started making out. And when I am engaged in such activities, you could pretty much set off a bomb and I wouldn't notice. I didn't notice when Fred, drunker than drunk, got up out of the corner. I didn't notice him stagger over to the CD player. I didn't notice the music stop. And I didn't notice Fred open up the top of the stereo, drop his pants, and take a dump directly into the CD player. The moment after it happened I came to my senses and started to realize what was going on. I looked on in horror as he pushed the top of the CD player down and hit the play button. It smelled bad. I mean Yeti stink. As he pulled up his pants (he didn't consider wiping with anything, thank you Jesus), I was off that couch like a bat out of hell. I grabbed Fred and pushed him outside. I rifled through his pockets for the keys on the way out to the truck, which was, luckily, very close to Leah's door. I didn't even look back as I loaded him up, got into the driver seat, and hightailed it out of there. It is the one and only time that I drove on a night that I had been drinking. You can imagine how pissed off I was. As we started to drive away I realized that Fred hadn't achieved a clean break -- the smell of Fred's rotten offering soon enveloped me. I rolled down the window to keep from gagging, all the time yelling, "What in the hell is wrong with you?!?" It wasn't a rhetorical question. I really wanted an answer. I continued to scream at him as we made our way on the back roads back to our place. "Are you fucking stupid or what?" He was just glazed over, content to marinate in his own stink. Finally, when I was parking the truck, he looked grinningly at me and said, "When you gotta go, you gotta go." I could have killed him. As I pulled him out of the truck I was somewhat disappointed that his crease grease managed not to leak through his pants. I wanted his truck to smell for weeks. Still, I made sure that he showered because I didn't want to breathe in his cloud all night. The next day Fred had the nerve to pretend like he didn't remember making Leah's stereo his toilet. I knew he was full of shit. I stayed away from that cell bio course for the rest of the semester, having a friend take notes for me instead. I purposely showed up ten minutes late for the final, finished in record time, and took off. Leah stared at me from across the room the entire time. Now I can look back and laugh; but at the time I was pretty pissed about getting a C in cell bio. I have since cleared Fred on all charges of turd terrorism, by reason of temporary insanity. Post new comment
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