Of Hippesters and Hellholes.
A Fear and Loathing Homage By Will Woolery
The night did not suddenly explode in to life like so many others before. In fact that 4 of us had given up hope entirely and resigned ourselves to drinking cheap whiskey and smoking cheap weed in the dorm bathrooms, running back and forth from dorm to dorm saying high to each and every oblivious RA as we grew more and more desperately intoxicated. That night was to be nothing special of course. Simply movie watching, music jamming, video game playing drunkenness as I sat lonesome at the desk scribbling the occasional thought of life and love in a note pad that I lovingly dubbed “the drunk pad.”
I poured the left over of a 5th of whiskey in to my ol’ Karouac flask and lay on the ground. “What you doing” asked someone I didn’t know or care much who. “I just laying down for a second. This Jim and Mary combo seems to have gone to my head!” I laughed and got up one seconds later. “To the 7!” I asked all who would listen. They denied me my treats. I debated how my level of intoxication differed from there. No room was spinning yet and so I knew I was fine.
Greg sat dressed in his usual lovably dorky sweatshirt and shorts. He jammed to his hippity hop and drank from a highball glass whiskey from my own flask. Nate would jump up from the bed with every few songs and suggest another smoke out. Had a feeling that something might still be chizzled out of this evening so I denied him his treats. He sadly walked out of the room alone. An RA walked past but didn’t bother to investigate our stench of liquor. He would join us and Nick would begin to play games with him. Bouncing around and around the room with him. Messing with his head. Messing with all our heads. Hell! Messing with his own head at that point. The hip to do RA we drank with on occasion then knocked on the door.
“You all are reeedic!” she said.
“Jessica’s DRUNK!” spouted Greg. She joined us as well for a while. But forgive...