The Saturday Morning CC Visit

Oh Saturday mornings. Hangovers. Yeah great.

I love going to the Campus Center hung over or just all out stoned. The food is never good unless it's a visit day, when Otterbein tries to convince families and potential students that it's a great school to attend. Poor bastards. Little do they know their decision would be equivalent to selling their soul to the devil, only this time it's Kathy Krendl.

This morning is no different, same shitty food. I walk to meet a friend who swipes me in. Why do I go if the food sucks? Who gives a shit, I'm hung over and have no food at home. CC it is.

Weekend mornings are a treat to the people watchers and the creepers. Half the students sitting there are in my same miserable state, hung over and trying their hardest not to projectile vomit the cheesy eggs.The other half are just the normal students, up and at 'em. Probably going back to their dorms later to study, or pray, or... something. I forget sometimes that there are normal people out there, normal hard working students who wouldn't have ecstasy, marijuana, or cocaine turn up positive on a piss test. Normal people who don't even drink, and have no desire to. I never will understand that. As much as I consider throwing myself off a cliff every hangover, I look forward to a well desired 40 oz from the Bope or a Ray Jay shot at Jimmy V's. I have a lot of issues to suppress, and alcohol is a great friend of people with issues.

I sit down with some good friends, and begin to recount the night from the bits and pieces we do remember of our journey to Long Street bar in downtown Columbus. One of the girls fell off the table she was dancing on numerous times and is covered in bruises. Her boyfriend shakes his head as she tells the story. Everyone else just laughs. I then begin to tell the story of running off to find one of my underaged friends puking just around the corner of two cop cars outside the club, then we convince the cops to help us get back into the club through  side door. Tax money hard at work ladies and gentlemen.

As we laugh at how ridiculously wasted we all were, we learn of one of our close friends getting an underage last night. This, of course, is following her finishing her court appearances after getting a DUI. She's only 18. To some people, she might need help. Counseling even. To us, we blame the cops. She will be fine though, she's got a good lawyer.

Any given Saturday morning would probably find us in the same spot, telling a similar tale.