When I was in my freshman year of college, my girlfriend at the time, Megan *coughpsychotichellbitchcough* was a senior in high school, so of course I went to the beach with them for Senior Week.
For those of you who don’t know, Senior Week is the first or second week after graduation where parent’s who are just phoning it in allow their high school senior aged children go down to the beach and get alcohol poisoning.
Because we didn’t know anyone who was 21 once we got down to the beach, we knew we’d need to buy our booze before we left. My assistant manager at the pool where I was a lifeguard took pity on us, and he said he’d buy us whatever we wanted, with only a very slight mark-up for his trouble.
After he walked out of the liquor store and deposited two cases of Zima in my trunk, he told me that I needed to learn how to drink beer, and that he wasn’t buying me anything else until he saw me drinking beer. My objections that the Zima was for the ladies (my hellbitch went to an all-girls school) fell upon deaf ears. He simply shook his head as he walked to his own car with a case of Maryland’s Best (it makes Boh seem like immaculate ejaculate).
We made it down to the beach without any trouble. By without any trouble I mean the hellbitch called me every 30 minutes to get me to change my schedule at the pool so I could get down there a day earlier and once someone took my shift and I was able to make it down there she gave me the cold shoulder for not getting there faster. Bitch.
The first half of the week was filled with craziness. People were getting drunk every night, a half-dozen people were sunburned after the 2nd day, and we were quickly running out of food due to drunken munchies. Then we hit the wall.
We were running out of Zima and we had no one to buy us booze. By a strange stroke of luck, or a bizarre coincidence, or something, it turns out that the guy who was staying in the apartment below us was a guy who I had gone to pre-school with. Oh, and he was friends with my cousin who was 21 and also staying below us. So, they gave me a bowl of gin, and I took it back upstairs to try to find something to mix it with and I see everyone in our apartment sitting around and talking.
All of a sudden the hellbitch bursts from the bathroom wearing only a tshirt and her underwear. Her overall-shorts things (which I always hated) were crumpled in a ball beneath the toilet. She stumbled towards the kitchen and grabbed the last two Zimas from the fridge. She gave one to her friend, and she took the other one for herself, before flopping down onto the couch Al Bundy style.
Her friend was pretty drunk so she set her full Zima on the corner of the table and helped me look for something to mix with the gin. The hellbitch continued to pound her Zima as she talked to my buddy Joe, who was leaning up against the table. By some stroke of misfortune, Joe knocked over the Zima on the table and it spilled onto the carpet. The filthy carpet of the beach place that probably had been there since they built it.
Hellbitch’s eyes go wide and she dives onto the carpet and starts licking the Zima out of the rug. Between licks she’s saying, “This is the last Zima guys. C’mon! Help! Don’t waste it!”
At this point her sort-of-but-not-at-that-moment-friend Heather comes into the apartment wasted off her ass, eyes completely glazed over, and barely able to stand up and sees the Hellbitch licking the carpet and starts laughing her head off. Then Heather starts spanking my ex-girlfriend, the hellbitch.
I grabbed Heather’s arm and pulled her away and told her to take it easy because they were both drunk. For a second I saw a glimmer of rational thought in Heather’s eyes, but then it disappeared and Heather leaned her head into my shoulder and bit me, and broke the skin, through my shirt.
Mind you, I’m not a violent guy. Though I did terrorize my brothers when we were children, they can both vouch that now I’m a chilled out dude. So I shocked even myself when I grabbed Heather, picked her up under her arms, and forced her backwards until her back was against the closet and her feet were dangling in the air. I looked at Heather, and I loudly, but calmly said, “If you ever fucking bite me again I’m going to rip your fucking head off and show you your body so you can watch yourself die.”
There was then a pause so long that I thought the world had stopped spinning. But then, a flicker of life in Heather’s eyes and she started laughing. She cackled. I couldn’t help realizing how ridiculous this all was, so we went back to laughing at my ex-girlfriend who was till licking Zima off of the floor.
