Thursday, April 2, 2009

TMI Thursday: The Chair

It was late August 1995 and my roommate and I were hosting one of what became a Legen-wait for it-dary string parties during our sophomore year in the warm embrace of Chapel Hill. (And, when I say warm, I mean August in North Carolina warm.)
Morrison Residence Hall - Scene of legendary exploits
and tales too twisted to tell (except here)

Our parties were significantly better than everyone else’s for a couple of very simple reasons. First, due to my six years before the mast in the Marines, I was old enough to legally procure that most valuable of commodities in an underclass dorm: alcohol. And procure it I did. In vast and previously unheard of quantities.

The Prez (my roomie) and I each kicked in 20 bucks at the start of the year to fill the fridges with Rolling Rock for us and the people we knew, and The Beast for those who just wandered in off the streets. All we asked was a small donation from those partaking of our generosity and they were assured of beer-filled mini-fridges and a place free of the tyranny of the RAs to partake in the malted goodness.

The tyranny-free zone was the result of two factors: One, I never let a party get too out of hand and, B) the RA on our floor had a healthy, but totally unfounded, fear of the former Marine in his charge. (Except for one somewhat drunken occasion the day after he busted my girlfriend for underage drinking when I wasn’t around, I was never, ever, anything but a completely loveable teddy bear of a 6’2” 225-pound former Marine rugby player. Like Fezzik said, “It's not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don't even exercise.”)

Anyway, getting back to the story, being the new school year people would wander hither and yon in the 10-storey behemoth that was and is Morrison Residence Hall. After a couple of weeks our den of inequity quickly gained a good rep and the freshmen and, more importantly, freshwomen arrived in droves most Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights.

On one evening that sticks out in the collective memory, a trio of particularly comely maidens wandered by, were invited in and provided libations and the best seats in our 1,680-cubic-foot room. Here’s where the problem arises, since our guests were sitting in our finest chairs, I was relegated to one of the standard-issue formed-plastic chairs that came with the room. Ya see what’s coming, don’t ya?

Beer + Dining hall food = Only one possible outcome.

I farted. Loud and long and proud. A real first-class tear-ass gas bomb. And, with the assistance of the standard-issue formed-plastic dorm room chair, I think I even got the rarest of effects: reverb.

Now, amongst men, this action would have been praised and, depending on those present, a heroic ballad may have even been written about the exploit.

But our trio of maidens didn’t quite see things the same way. All conversation stopped dead. Jaws dropped. Beers were quickly chugged or abandon.

We never saw them again.

18 comments:

Lemmonex said...

Oh man. Well, they are weak. You didn't want them anyway.

LiLu said...

Second Lem.

"(And, when I say warm, I mean August in North Carolina warm.)"

I used to ride in my sans-AC 87 Civic hatchback to the restaurant where I worked in a dress shirt, tie, and black pants... and we had to come in fully dressed. I used to try to drive sitting forward away from the seat, but it didn't matter. By the time I got there, my entire backside was one huge wet spot. SEXXXXY!

Just A Girl said...

Third Lem and LiLu. I would have laughed my ass off (and possibly tried to show you up).

justjp said...

Totally weak. I wouldn't want them around anyways.

Liebchen said...

Hahaha - how can you not applaud something of that magnitude?

Amateurs.

Titania said...

I fourth Lem, Lilu and Just a Girl. They were not worth your time and beer. This was hilarious, poetic, almost peed on my pants.

FoggyDew said...

Lem - Well, at the time it seemed like a major PR disaster.

LiLu - And I'm guessing your journey was up hill, both ways.

Just A - That was the reaction I may have been going for. They were a little more proper than I'd expected.

jp - Who could have known they'd never come back.

Liebchen - I think it was about a 5.7 on the Richter scale.

Titania - Remind me to tell the story of the "Is this all you brought" girl. Now there's someone who wasn't worth the beer.

Mb said...

Oh wow- I can't believe they just left. See, with my crowd that would have been the conversation starter. You would have easily gotten a round of high fives and quite possibly a pat on the back.

FoggyDew said...

Mb - The guys were laughing and getting ready to high five...until the room started to clear out. Perhaps they'd never heard a fart before?

Titania said...

Maybe they were convinced their farts are always silent and always, ALWAYS smell like roses

Alice said...

HAA. i would have made a mental note to make fun of you later with my friends, but i would have stayed and continued to drink :-)

FoggyDew said...

Titania - That may have been what they thought, but in my experience some of the most noxious farts have come out of some of the prettiest girls.

Alice - You could have made fun of me right there as you got another beer. I've got a pretty thick skin.

Ella said...

wouldn't have bothered me. i'd have already broken the ice with lip curling belch after the first 1/2 of a beer.

Hillbilly Princess said...

Bitches. I would have just laughed. Everybody farts.

FoggyDew said...

Ella - I always appreciate a woman who can produce a good lip curling belch.

Princess - Welcome! Some people are more delicate than you and I.

Shannon said...

You're never going to get over my introducing you to, Is That All You Brought Girl, are you? I mean, I know she was worse than a reverb fart, but really, it's been 14 years.

Titania said...

Foggy, you asked me to remind you, but now I really really want to know. What's the story with "Is That All You Brought" Girl?

FoggyDew said...

Shannon - In a word: No.

Titania - Well, we all know we'll be reading about "Is that all you brought?" girl next week.