Freshman Year

1:28 a.m.

I'm sitting here remembering all the bizarre occurrences that happened to me in my freshman year of college. Like the day we invented the phrase "Goin' FSU." FSU was supposed to stand for "Fuck Shit Up" but the letters FSU got thrown around constantly, especially when inebriated - Todd was particularly fond of screaming at all the stuff he was going to go FSU on, like trees, and then jump around.

I also recall my first roommate. He was a small Brazilian foreign exchange student named Mauricio who seemed nice enough, but was mostly just anal. He used to tell me that I typed too loud, and would ask if there was some way for me to keep it down. What the fuck? I type too loud? Sorry, I guess.

He also used to take out all of his various electrical engineering tools from his drawer and then clean and polish them all, setting them neatly back in an orderly fashion. This is the sort of methodical guy that goes on killing sprees, so I can't say I was too terribly upset when he ended up going back to Brazil.

He was also horrible with women. He'd get a girl's number, then when he'd call her, he'd end up arguing with her. And that argument would end with him saying something very indignant in Portugese and hanging up on her. Good God. I got the impression that he resented the fact that I had a girlfriend, too, like maybe he felt that he, fine specimen of Brazilian man that he was, should have been knee deep in the finest of American women, and I should have nothing. Yeah, whatever. You keep shouting in a foreign language and I'll continue making out with my hot girlfriend. Then maybe we can swap notes and learn from each other.

Mauricio and I didn't get along so great.

But he was still better than Ryan's Brazilian roommate (explanation: Ryan and I were supposed to be roommates but they ended up sticking us with foreign exchange students instead because somehow that constituted more of a learning experience). Ryan's roommate blew his nose into his sheets. I'm not even fucking kidding. I saw him do it. He'd wake up from a nap while I was over there, smack his lips a couple of times, and then just full on blow a big wet sack of boogers right into his bedsheets. And then he'd go back to sleep in his own filth. When I asked Ryan how often the guy washed those sheets, he got this disgusted look on his face and said, "I've never seen him wash those sheets ever."

Other notable things Ryan's roommate did:

-He knew almost no English except for some swear words, which I'm pretty sure Ryan taught him, even though he'll never admit to it.
-He loved our music, but could only sing along with a few words at a time. His favorite song was "Rape Me" by Nirvana, which he would sing every time he was in the shower as loud as he possibly could. Take a guess which words he was able to remember from that song.
-Our winters frightened and confused him. I guess if I came from a place where it was hot every day all year round I wouldn't have expected the cooler weather, either, but he never got used to it at all. Christ, this is Texas. It doesn't get that cold. Find a bigger coat.
-Whenever he stretched, he started shaking like an epileptic. It was the freakiest thing you could ever hope to see in a lifetime. It even freaked the other Brazilians out.

The only girl that the Brazilians brought with them in this foreign exchange program spoke worse English than any of them, and she had a total crush on Ryan. She used to find any excuse to visit Ryan's roommate so she could sit and stare at him. I suspect this drove him into my room on more than one occasion. There's something kind of unnerving about a girl that just stares.

As odd as the Brazilians were, however, they had nothing on my suitemates, who were both very much American. I'm not sure how they were able to get out of having to babysit foreigners, but I wish I could bottle their charisma and sell it to weirdoes.

The first day I met them they were both out on the balcony taking off their shirts to show off their nipple rings and shouting, "Nipples, nipples, nipples!" Nice.

As retarded as they were, however, they had an incredible sense of pimptitude. I lost count of how many girls I saw coming and going from their dorm room. One night they even had a little orgy in our bathroom. I'm not kidding.

I came back really late one night from hanging out at Joe's place, and I remember I had to pee pretty bad. But as soon as I came in I realized the shower was on. This wouldn't have been so unusual except that it was like 3 AM and nobody in their right mind would be showering at that time. It didn't take long for me to figure out what was going on when I heard both of my suite mates, as well as two (or possibly three - I never figured this out, but definitely more than one) girls chiming in with their own, higher-pitched, giggles.

I spent a long time just sitting next to my bathroom door hoping they'd finish up so I could take a piss. During that time I heard some wonderful lines from those guys:

-"What's the big deal? It's just a penis. You act like you've never seen one before."
-"You girls are going to love this. Hey, [insert unremembered suite mate's name here], show them what you've got." *girl gasp followed by an "Oh my God!"*
-"Hey, we're running out of tape."

And from the girls:

-"I'm so drunk. Oh my God."
-"I can't believe we're doing this. What would my mom say?"
-"Jesus, [unremembered suite mate's name], what do you feed that?"
-*obligatory heavy breathing and/or sex moans*

I wish I could say this is all a funny anecdote from some other guy's life, but it's not. This is me, and this is true. I learned a lot that night. Let me share with you in a numbered fashion:

1. When you openly say, "I can't believe we're doing this," then it's usually a good indication that you shouldn't be doing it. I mean, fuck, you can't even believe it.
2. That first line I quoted from one of my suite mate's remains to this day one of the dumbest things I've ever heard somebody say. Yeah, that's sexy. Insult the girls you brought in by implying that they've seen a ton of penises.
3. What am I saying? It obviously worked.
4. What am I saying, yet again? This whole thing worked because (if you didn't catch this before), apparently [forgotten suite mate's name] has the Loch Ness Monster between his legs. Those snippets of conversation I showed above were ones of way too fucking many that suggested this. I'm not naive enough to believe that size doesn't entirely matter, but there was still something unsettling about hearing a couple of girls fall to pieces with hysterical joy because a copious amount of cock was shown to them.
5. Go to the bathroom before you get home.

The next morning was an even bigger disaster. I woke to finally take my piss (how I got to sleep without wetting myself is beyond me) and hop in the shower, but that bathroom was a war zone. There was a bean bag cushion right in front of our bathroom door (an ingenious way of blocking us out - as though I really wanted to walk into the middle of that debaucle), the entire bathroom was wet, there were various empty beer cans littering the place, and both the toilet and shower floor had more condoms and wrappers than I'd ever care to see in my life.

As I took in the horror, the door to my suite mates' dorm opened and a girl wearing a small t-shirt and panties started to walk in. She stopped when she realized I was there and we both just sort of stared at each other for a sec before I backed out slowly and said, "All yours."

I then walked over to Ryan's place, knocked on his door, and told him I needed to use his bathroom and shower. He took one look at my face and didn't ask questions.

This was more or less what freshman year was all about. Insanity. Some days I kind of miss it, because in all honesty, my life now seems sort of boring in comparison, but most days I'm sort of glad. I mean, that was a lot of fucked up shit.

Listening To: A Perfect Circle - Judith, Handsome Boy Modeling School - Rock n' Roll (Could Never Hip-Hop Like This), Live - Lakini's Juice, Dish Walla - Stay Awake, Queens of the Stone Age - No One Knows

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