It was the second semester of my freshman year of college. I was pretty new to drinking. I never drank in high school and pretty much avoided it my first semester. There were a few guys on the hall of my freshman dorm that were over 21 and they would go on massive liquor and beer runs for the entire hall. One day, somehow things got miscalculated and an extra handle of brunettes vodka was purchased. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was fate, but either way it was there and a friend and I, my future roommate, laid claims on it.
There was this one fraternity house on campus. Quite possibly the shittiest house and shittiest people ever to be laid eyes on. Everyone has heard horror stories about fraternities and the awful things they do, hazing and what not. But, with this fraternity, these stories were based in fact.
Outside this fraternity house were the fraternity's Greek letter. Unlike most fraternities, which have there letters attached to the house in some manner, this fraternity had their letters in the front yard, leaned against the house, not attached to anything, in any manner. Also, unlike most fraternities with letters of a somewhat large size but not obnoxious big, this fraternity's letters were HUGE. Taller than me, standing at 6 foot flat.
As me and my friend begin to sample our prize of free vodka, trying it with different mixers, juices, sodas, and eventually landing on nestle ice tea, another person that lived on the hall burst in. He told us of his grand idea, to steal the letters. Maybe it was the booze, but this sounded like the greatest idea that I had ever heard and we enacted project "steal the fucking letters" immediately.
Before heading out, My friend and I both turned up the vodka bottle, already being wasted, and set out on the mission. Next thing I know we were in a car and we were on our way. To this day I don't know where the car came from or who was driving or if the driver was sober. All of that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was making those letters mine.
We arrived at the house at some ungodly hour of the night/morning. The letters were beautiful. They were actually the ugliest things I’d ever seen, made of cheap plywood and painted, poorly, with spray paint, but right then none of that mattered. We proceeded to sneak up to the letters, they nestled underneath a large living room window and the TV was on so we were "quiet" as in, drunk and loud, dragged the letters to the car and began stuffing them in the back. We got one in, two in, and tried for the third, the letter that I had stolen with my two hands. The big beautiful giant A, and it didn't fit. Without saying a word I threw the giant A over my shoulder and began to run. Yes run. It weighed at least 30 pounds and was awkward as hell to carry. I ran like the wind, through the middle of campus, directly past the campus police station.
I heard applause as I ran, which says a little something of how hated this fraternity was. By the way, the frat is now gone, losing their charter for sucking. Not only was this house pretty far away from my freshman dorm, it was on the complete opposite side of campus, about 2 country miles or a long f#*&ing way. In retrospect, we could have stashed the letter on top of the car and each of us hold on to with one hand out of the window, but my thinking was impaired, I was drinking.
I began the final stretch of my run, all of it up a giant hill, and I see the car and my friends searching for me. They had come back to see if the letter would fit now that the others were emptied. They drove past me "not seeing me" and by not seeing me I mean that the person riding shotgun was pointing and laughing and didn't tell the driver that he saw me. So, they drove on past and I continued running, and at last I made it to the doors. "shit" I didn't have my ID to swipe to get into the building. So there I was, waiting, with a giant A at my side, for someone to walk out of the doors so I could go in. 15 minutes later someone finally came out, looked at me with a confused look, and then kept on walking.
I booked it toward the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief when I made it to my floor, steppe off the elevator, and standing right there was my RA, resident adviser. He just shook his head and made way into his room without saying a word, so I made way to my room. My roommate, who had gone to every single school that I had since preschool, was "busy" with his girlfriend who he hadn't seen in a solid 6 months. To say the least, they had things to do. I politely knocked on the door.... no answer. So I knocked again... no answer. I knew they were in there, I had no idea where my key was, I was drinking, and I was growing impatient. So, I started to beat on the door, and continued to do so as loud as I could for 10 to 15 minutes until my roomie cracked open the door. Even though the door was only cracked, I could see his scowl in the moonlight, and I said to him "I need to put this in there." "what is it" he asked, and I replied "it's an A." I slid the A through the tiny crack in the door we were talking through, whether he wanted it to be in there or not, and walked away.
That was the last thing I remember of that night. I later found out that an accelerated heart rate, which can be caused by running, can increase one's drunken state. I was told that my friend and I polished off the handle of vodka, all of it between the two of us, which is way too much for anyone, and then stumbled hopelessly from room to room on the hall for the remainder of the night, bragging about our accomplishment.
The next afternoon, I arose in someone else's bed, thankfully alone with my clothes still on, with a pretty decent sized headache and stomach that was angry at me. I recovered throughout the day and helped clean up the room we had hung out in for most of the night before, when we heard voices down the hall. When you live in a freshman dorm, you get to know people a little better than you actually want to, and we knew that these voices were from someone that didn't live there. I peaked my head out to see two of the fraternity brothers of the frat we had stolen the letters from. We quickly shut the door and locked it. The one friend I had drank the handle with jumped in a closet, leaving the person that lived in that room, where all three of the letters were stashed, and I to deal with the situation.
We scrambled. We hid one letter under the bunk bed, piling everything we could on top of it. We hid one letter on the top bunk, piling even more crap on top of it, and one letter partially behind a couch and partially behind a poster hanging on the wall. We were satisfied, and then we heard a knock on the door. Neither of us answered it, or even said a word. We just stood there in shock. We heard our RA's voice asking the guys who they were and what they wanted. The guys tried to interrogate the RA about the letters, saying “you must have seen something,“ but he told them nothing. Then, they tried to get him to unlock the door for them, which he wouldn't do either.
We then got the idea, for me to hide behind the door while the friend who lived in that room opened the door and pretended like he was taking a nap, which he did to the T. He opened the door to find 2 pretty big guys, at least in comparison to him, being 5' 2" on a good day with heels on, staring him down. The two probed him with questions like aliens on a mid-west farmer, and he batted them off like flies, turning things around on them like they were in the wrong for waking him from his slumber.
We knew what we had to do. We had to get rid of our prizes. We ran them down to the baseball field behind our dorm on the most secluded part of campus. We stashed one in the home bleachers, one in the away and one on the pitchers mound but I didn't part ways with my beloved A before unleashing the giant piss I was holding in right on top of it. And that is how my freshman year went...