So, if you’ve been paying attention to my life and/or stalking me, you know that I went on a little excursion of sorts con mi amiga Kehly Hansen up to Ames on Friday night. Oh my. What a fantastic weekend. You know the Holocaust?? Well it was the exact opposite of that. The night began with some pre-game-age in Kayla’s dorm followed by some bonding with the Willowites. After we were sufficiently drunk, we headed off to the bus stop where the cambus, affectionately referred to as the “Drunk Bus” was going to pick our inebriated asses up. We’re met by approximately 40 to 50 other drunkards like ourselves waiting impatiently for our ride down town. Midge starts chanting “BUS, BUS, BUS, BUS!!!” so everyone joins in and gets riled up in a dangerous manner.
By now everyone is tanked and angry for no reason that the bus isn’t here, so when it finally arrives, pandemonium ensues. Apparently people are supposed to board the bus one at a time while the driver checks student IDs. To his surprise, as he opened the doors, the angry alcoholics stormed the bus like George Washington’s troops in the Revolutionary War. About a third of the crowd successfully made it on before the driver jumped on the stairs and yelled, “NO ONE ELSE IS GETTING ON MY BUS!!!” By that statement alone, you can gather that this guy was one of those guys that took his insignificant minimum wage job far too seriously. He was also short, fat, and stout. Not to mention he had on thick round glasses. I digress.
Of course, his irrational statement only provoked those of us who hadn’t boarded the bus yet to attack in a more ferocious manner. We were getting on that bus, so help us God. A few guys stormed over to the doors and held them open while the bus driver, now scared shitless, desperately tried to close them in vain. The drunk guys started yelling, “WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!!” while people shoved their way toward the opening. It got wild and vicious. I got elbowed in the nose. I saw someone punch an old woman. It was seriously like Titanic where the lower class people were trying to dive into the boats. It was pure chaos. I finally get on the bus and join the rest of my intoxicated companions near the back. This is when shit hit the ceiling. People started HITTING the bus driver and yelling, “FUCK, THE, BUS DRIVER!” over and over. He drove for two blocks, then pulled over and called the police on account of the student assaults that were ensuing. Someone toward the front of the bus alerted the rest of us that we were about to get arrested, so everybody spilled out of the bus and scattered as quickly as possible. It was awesome.
There’s more to that night including stealing keg cups at more than one house party, lying to get free cans of beer, my conversation with a non-English speaking Puerto Rican (and actually communicating effectively–or I was drunk), and a french toast frat party, plus a voyage in the freezing cold rain, but my ovaries hurt and I want to go lay on my fists. WELP, see you later!