A Tale From Pirate Nation

Posted on September 23, 2010


So, back when I was actually enrolled at East Kackalaki I met a cutie out and we hooked up a couple nights in a row.  The last morning, before she was picked up from my townhouse (#69, if you can believe that), I ask her how she likes NC State since she mentioned she lived in Raleigh.  She looks bewildered (not the first nor the last time I receive that look).  It turns out she went to high school in Raleigh and she was only on spring break.  She thought I knew.  The only thing I knew for sure was how she liked… well, not going to write that.   Ex post facto be damned.  She tells me not to worry about age of consent in NC.  But I’m 23 and she’s over half a decade my junior (Ironic, considering that may have been her grade too).  Her response was classic:  “Really? I just thought you had a really good fake ID?”

Needless to say you never know what to expect in G-Vegas and this past trip was no different. 

I arrive on a Thursday to the last night of Rush, Parents Weekend and a home game (vs. Memphis).  Our bid party had just gotten underway when I try to get in, to no avail.  The guy at the door said, “Sorry, no dudes allowed in tonight.”  I inform him that I am the closest equivalent of alumni ECU has and give him my name.  “Oh shit! I’ve heard all about you.”  Apparently I am “that guy” everywhere I have lived.  He wasn’t lying about the entrance policy as there were over 400 females dressed in damn near nothing to the 70 or so brothers inside.  It was magical.  I drink, talk to my old brothers and the greatest gals around.  I love me some ECU girls.  We hit the bar later on and I somehow find myself not receiving the expected “attention” that entails your typical night out down there.  All is soon clarified for me.  I’m told to stop being nice, don’t ask questions. Just grab them and pull them in close.  Oh, I forgot sexual assault was actually the lost art of hooking up.  But Goddamn if it doesn’t work, although I decided to stick with a more middle ground approach.  By last call we are spilling out into downtown with a couple of hottie-bo-bodies.  They can’t drive and want a ride home.  DIBS!  We climb in her new Range Rover and spit game hard.  Shotgun broad may be one of the sexiest girls I’ve seen in a long while. (Next time you bump into me ask me what contest she won and what other magazines she is in)  Our drive is really stop and go.  I keep pulling over to “ask” for directions from my boy and his girl in the backseat.  Each time, Shotgun grabs my hand a slams it into her snatch, not allowing it to exit.  Fine by me.  I even have to turn the music up to cover her moans.  So we stop often and I lean over to cover us, all the while my buddy is quarreling with his broad about which house to go to.  Then comes arguably the worst thing to have happen.  I almost wish it was a DWI.  She was so relaxed that between moans she vomits all over the car.  It was horrific.  Yet another night that I find one of the drunkest pieces of tail out.  We park and switch to my rental,  the night now turning into a simple drop off.  Sweet.  And it started so very well.  She ends up leaving her purse in my car, which my buddy and I attempt to use as date bait later in the weekend.  It’s now power nap time before a drive to my pop’s place to go boating and work off the ensuing hangover.  Not too shabby for my first 6 hours at the 5th ranked party school in the nation.

Additional hazy moments from my bender:

-A co-ed asking me if I remember her name and my reply, “Not a chance.”  Then 20 minutes later taking her down in a random parking lot in back seat of the rental as I look at the clock and realize the weekend hasn’t even officially begun yet

-girls who know David Allen Coe lyrics by heart.  (future wifey)

-pregaming for the tailgate at 7 a.m. with pterodactyl porn on

-a parent calling out a girl at like 8:30 for wearing walk of shame clothes from the night before to the tailgate.  Then, calling her out again when she chose a mimosa over beer. Stay classy, ECU

-using a 13 year old as a mule to sneak airplane bottles into the game to drink

-UNC suspended players partying in G-Vegas instead of Chapel Hill Saturday evening

-4 of us being drunk and chasing a mallard duck around the driveway, not realizing that once we caught it he could still fly out of the backyard

-idiots asking what firm I work at and telling them Presidents’ names in random order or NBA starting line-ups.  “I think I’ve heard of them.”  Sure you have donkey

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