Friday, August 23, 2013

You Just Got Febrezed

It's only the first week of school and I'm already annoyed by people. Either I'm growing cranky with age or I am terminally hungover.

The Evolution of College

First year - you know no one on campus
Second year - you know a few people on campus
Third year - you know lots of people on campus
Fourth year - you talk to lots of people on campus
Fifth year - you avoid everyone

Despite my desire to remain unseen, I also have a strong desire to go to parties - this makes no sense, I know. What also confuses me is that I know how I get when I drink, so saying, "I want to go to a party" is the same as saying, "I want to embarass myself in public."

I went to my first party of the semester last night. Before arriving, I made sure to check off everything on my to-do list:

- drink a fifth of whiskey
- remove all fleas from clothing

After finding only two fleas, I knew things were going my way. If your bodily flea count is less than ten, you're going to have a good night. Some may call this "absolutely disgusting," but I call it being easily satisfied. Things could be worse, ya know. Just ask Jeff Goldblum. He knows.

ANYWAY let's get to the story - I go to the party. I'm guessing there were around 100 people there, though I can't be sure. I'm not Rainman. 

I didn't black out, but I don't remember how I acquired a cup of hunch punch. I had been routinely filling my cup from the keg, which was filled with beer, and out of nowhere my beer turns to liquor, which I didn't even notice until someone pointed it out.

friend: Hey, what's that you're drinking?

me: Oh, it's just beer.

friend: That's not beer.

me: What?
(I glance down at my cup.)

me: Oh're right.

friend: Where'd you get that?

me: I have no idea.

friend: Do you know what it is?

me: No. I didn't even realize the change in taste. Or that I was drinking something red.

This is probably when I should have stopped drinking.

I continued drinking, though, because you shouldn't waste alcohol. There are sober children in Africa.

The next thing I know, I have a can of Febreze in my hand. How it got there, I'm not quite sure. Did I grab the Febreze or did someone give it to me? I have no idea. But I did know what to do with it.

friend: Did you just spray Febreze on that girl?

me: Yep! (febrezes passerby)

friend: Are you just standing here febrezing people?

me: Yep! (febrezes passerby)

friend: And no one's said anything to you?

me: Nope! They don't even notice! See, watch: (febrezes guy's ass)

friend: (laughs) Where'd you get that?

me: Uh...I'm not quite sure, actually. (febrezes another guy)

guy: (pretending to be British) What in the bloody hell?

me: (also in a British accent) 'Allo ol' chap! There's some Febreze to go with your crumpets! Jolly good, lad, jolly good!

guy: (who apparently was not pretending, and was, in fact, British) Are you mocking me?

me: (realizing he was not pretending and has offended him) (thinking of how to respond) (speechless) (must go to last resort) (febrezes him)

guy: Quit spraying fucking Febreze on me.

me: But it's a party! I'm Febrezing everyone! (febrezes passerby)

guy: I don't give a fuck! I don't want that shit on me!

me: (febrezes him)

And then I ran away yelling in a British accent. You're welcome for the two bonus sprays, Big Ben. That's what you get for being an asshole. YOU JUST GOT FEBREZED, BITCH. Besides, who doesn't want to smell like "Bedroom Mist?"

Eventually, the can ran out and I no longer had any source of entertainment. Shortly after this disappointment, the cops showed up and everyone had to leave. As drunk as everyone was, no one reeked of alcohol.


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