I found today that the annual benefit for my fallen fraternity brother, Quincy, is at Salt Fork State Park in 2012. I was there once and got arrested. Here’s the tale.
My fraternity had an executive board, which I was on at the end of my sophomore year at age 20. We went to Salt Fork to plan the next year…then get wasted and make up horrible pledge names for the active members. They got meaner and less creative the more the beer flowed. They went from “Homewrecker” and “FLOS (Fat Lump of Shit)” to “Anorexic Burn Victim” and “The suicide hotline hung up on me.” Last one not too catchy. After a while, we got bored and began terrorizing the park.
My buddy stormed into a cabin of non-English speaking Asians and grabbed a bunch of sandwiches as they screamed their mysterious curses. Another guy said he saw some hot chicks. We went to investigate and knocked on the door. Turns out, the mom answered and the girls were 15. I ended up jumping naked into the lake for a case of beer and $3 (it was April, not very warm).
For some reason, I possess a gene that makes me do things people say I can’t. A gene, or mental defect. Alcohol exacerbates this greatly. I remember one time my buddy said I couldn’t scale a building, so I climbed railing up the side of an apartment complex. I also uprooted a sign post under a challenge that took me 12 minutes and screwed up my back. I now realize, yes it is a mental defect indeed. I have problems.
All was well that night until the last one up decided to drag my CD player to the deck and pass out to the blaring sounds of “Garth Brooks: The Hits.” Apparently, that didn’t sit well with the normal people…(stay tuned for the next blog!)