Monday, March 01, 2010

The Road to Higher Learning

It was about 10:30 when I flew onto the I-80. My Alfa was just about as warm as she was going to be for the drive up to Binghamton. This story almost begins like a typical disaster plot: it was speculated to be one of the worst storms in a dogs age and there I went, driving out into the abyss of winter in a featherweight rear-wheel driven convertible. I could see the ground becoming icier, still. The light traction on the steering caused by the wind had my heart fluttering momentarily. Another solid two hours of driving to go. By the time I hit New York, I had been spoiled by the frozen forest-lands that I saw through the strange haze of cascading snow. Everything was white; everything blurred into the shadows.

Immediately after parking my dear AriaBella for the night, Vlad and I both sat and appreciated what was about to transpire: our Binghamton Special.

My introduction to Rafuse Hall and it's inhabitants was in high spirits. Lemon-y spirits (followed by a series of fairly fortunate events), if I remember correctly. My memory is punctuated by the uncorking of Champagne bottle number one of the weekend. We had every reason to celebrate having no reason to celebrate. After deciding microwaved corndogs weren't enough to eat, we ventured to the Night Owl.

But first! We had to find a bubbler, which was unfortunately fated for a formidable demise. We never found the bubbler, but the cops did! After settling on a trusty glass bowl, we enjoyed two solid bowls. There is one item that deserves special attention; read carefully, so-you-don't-miss-a-thing. There were other kids visiting Binghamton that weekend, but one in particular, who also happened to stay in Rafuse, has given me one of the best stories ever. As he stood there smiling placidly and possibly interacting with his friends, he took the piece, placed the bowl in his mouth and proceeded to light the bit. Hang on, perhaps you don't understand. He put the flammable part in his mouth and tried to light the non-flammable part. After a quick laugh, we corrected him. Only to watch him try to set his lips on fire. Apparently, he was dead set on lighting the mouthpiece.*

On to the Night Owl: campus food.

Back to the dorm to pass out.

*Side note: next morning we wake up to find out that the cops are looking for this kid. That bubbler was in his car. Apparently, they forced him to smash his bubbler. Against a wall! Talk about police brutality. So yeah, they found him- completely amnestic of the prior night.

1 comment:

  1. Dude, I know this has nothing to do with this blog post and I'm so sorry, I'll comprehend it more later--but DAMN I love the shit out of you for your side profile about the zebras.

    I second that opinion.