This chapter brings up a bad side of me. I used to get into a lot of fights. I never much talked about them then. You see, I had to prove my manhood to myself. In fact, I had to prove I was a better man than anyone else. (As you can see, it worked. *looks down at my boobs*) My definition of manhood was a cross between James Bond and my dad. A Man drinks. A Man fights- and Wins. Losing is not an option. The only emotion a Man shows is anger.
I realized during my thirties that I really had no idea what Manhood truly meant. I like to think I was a good husband, and a good father. But in the end, I never was a Man. I never was a boy. I was a Woman- female- playing a bad parody of manhood. Now I'm trying to figure out the meaning of That.
In any case, this happened. Thirty years on, I'm sure no one involved is proud of it. I'm Not. It's because of events like this that I changed all the names in the book. I haven't re-read this chapter in a while. I wrote this book back when I was still under the delusion that I was male. Upon reading this, I detect a note of Pride in my prose- that I proved myself a Man. Must've been the Testosterone Poisoning.
It is mentioned earlier in the book- I was, at the time, a volunteer Emergency Medical Technician. This fact comes into play a few times in the book.
Yes, people look at me and say "male"
In this book, I discuss only a couple of my college fights, but there were many more. Usually I would find a jerk who was being an asshole to a woman, and I would insult him until he took a swing at me. I would then make quick work of him (I have martial arts training, but haven't been to a dojo in decades) then exit quickly. I continued doing this until the late 00s. I never swung first.I realized during my thirties that I really had no idea what Manhood truly meant. I like to think I was a good husband, and a good father. But in the end, I never was a Man. I never was a boy. I was a Woman- female- playing a bad parody of manhood. Now I'm trying to figure out the meaning of That.
In any case, this happened. Thirty years on, I'm sure no one involved is proud of it. I'm Not. It's because of events like this that I changed all the names in the book. I haven't re-read this chapter in a while. I wrote this book back when I was still under the delusion that I was male. Upon reading this, I detect a note of Pride in my prose- that I proved myself a Man. Must've been the Testosterone Poisoning.
It is mentioned earlier in the book- I was, at the time, a volunteer Emergency Medical Technician. This fact comes into play a few times in the book.
**********************************************************
Chap 6: Socially Acceptable
Friday, September 5, 1986 4 Men seize Pan Am jet in Pakistan
The blondes bounced and smiled, laughed and drank, ate and
flirted. Speakers placed in upstairs windows blared live Grateful Dead
music. A small knot of brothers played hacky-sak on the lawn.
A social! I'd heard of these- read about them- but I'd never been to one. The Pi Phis (Pi Beta Phi) came over to party. They had to stay until eleven, at which time they could stay or go. Kind of a mandatory thing to make sure they'd show up, but they could still get out if the party was lame. Socials usually started at nine, but this was a "BBQ Social" where we fired up the grill and made them dinner. Food was one way to guarantee that most of the sisters would be there.
The grill was a large silver painted barrel, maybe five feet long and two to three feet wide with several racks in it at varying heights. With it a person could grill a shitload of food in a hurry- just what we needed for this occasion.
Smoke cascaded from the grill and the front porch was congested with brothers and sisters, everyone in shorts, mini skirts, and tasteful collared shirts. The Pi Phis were obviously one of the top sororities- or at least they thought so- as they were impeccably dressed, groomed and had the proper slightly snobbish, if slightly playful attitude.
There I was, surrounded by hot women! And I couldn't think of anything to say or do. I was so scared and out of place. I wanted to be funny and fun, but I couldn't think of an "in." I was out of my league. So, beer in hand, I walked over to the keg, where a knot of brothers I'd already met were standing.
"Hey! It's good old Lance!" shouted Ernie, causing heads to turn. "Do you drink, Lance?"
I looked down at my plastic cup of beer then smiled at him. "Yeah."
He refilled my cup. "Ok! Let's chug!"
Chugging was downing a beer at one shot without stopping. I never could chug. Still can't. But I tried anyway. Ernie was done before I finished half of mine, but I kept going until the cup was empty anyway.
"Didn't they teach you to chug at Drexel?!?! That's lame!” Ernie laughed, slapped me on the back and refilled my cup.
"Here, I'll show you how. You lean back your head like this to open your throat and just pour it down." He chugged the beer very quickly. His demonstration attracted the attention of a few other brothers and a couple of Pi Phis.
"Ok. Now you try it" he urged.
I did what he said: head back, pour…
And ended up snarfing (spitting out) most of it as my mouth overflowed and my gag reflex kicked in. Beer was all over my shirt, and worse- all over a cute short Pi Phi who wore way too much makeup. She screamed as she was drenched with beer.
The brothers almost fell over laughing. I offered to get towels and whatever else was handy.
"You asshole!" she shouted. Her sisters glared at me as pledges brought towels to dry off her hair and powder blue polo shirt.
Ernie refilled my cup. "Not bad. Try again!"
The sun set and Happy Valley was gearing up for another weekend of fun. The Skull social was still going strong. Piles of grilled burgers, hot dogs, and chicken were heaped upon trays in the dining room. We'd finished three kegs so far. The porch spotlights illuminated the front of the house, making it look like a grand stage where the brothers and guests were the players in a grand production withBeaver Avenue as
the audience.
I lingered around the edges, my pastel blue and white striped shirt smelling like stale beer. The world was slightly out of focus, yet had an unusual clarity. I had to concentrate to walk straight and speak clearly. Some of the girls still glared at me or whispered as I staggered by. Not a great debut.
I joined a group of guys at the top of the porch steps. A couple of pledges each held clear plastic pitchers and refilled the beers of the brothers in the group. I hadn't met the guy who was speaking. He was maybe a couple of inches shorter than me, and solid muscle. He looked like a body builder- in fact he looked like a little Schwarzenegger: squinty eyes, lantern jaw and all. He wore a tight black t-shirt, white shorts, and Dockers, and he pointed at people while speaking.
"I'm telling you guys, their pool table is fuckin' sweet! No way those geeks should have something that nice in their house" he preached.
A bug-eyed pledge refilled my beer. I recognized him- he went to my high school. Graduated a year or so after me. What was his name? The body builder turned to me.
"So do you agree with- who the fuck are you?”
"I'm Lance. I'm a Skull just transferred up from Drexel," I managed to spit out.
He looked at me like I was a repulsive worm ridden corpse.
"Whatever. Anyway Laaance," he said, dragging out the A to make the name sound like an insult, "are you with me on this?"
"Shurr" I slurred. "Ab- absolutely." I gulped down more beer. The pledges smiled. The bodybuilder squinted at me.
"Have you been drinking, Laaance"?
"Yup!” I smiled.
"Well, Laaance from Dorksel, you should learn to control yourself. Here atPenn
State
I looked around the porch and yard. There was a guy sitting in the hedges, laughing and stuck where he fell. A couple of Pi Phis were trying to help a third down the walkway as she had forgotten how to walk. Drunken shouts of "WOO HOO!" and "YEAH!" pierced the new night. I turned back to the bodybuilder.
"Of course you don't" I smiled. "What am I agreeing to anyway?"
"I was just informing the pledges that those dweebs next door don't deserve such a nice pool table.” He pointed at the house next door. It was a large fraternity house with a dark stained wood exterior- home of Triangle, the engineering fraternity. They were having a party, so all their lights were blazing and people meandered in and out their front door.
"Why don't we go take it from them? We could set it up in the foyer and give it back later" drooled bug eyes.
"Great idea! Now you're getting it!" beamed bodybuilder. "Round up your pledge brothers! I'll get a couple of guys and we'll do this!"
"Mind if I join you?” I asked drunkly.
"Whatever, dork. Just don't get in the way" snarled bodybuilder.
The five pledges assembled in the foyer. Bodybuilder grabbed three other guys who were also pretty big. I recognized one of them as Mike, whom I met on a visit last year.
"Ok guys, we go in, we grab the table and some cues and get right back out. No problem! Pledges, remove your pins," barked the bodybuilder.
"Hey Saint, what if they stop us?” Mike asked.
"They can't. They're pussies and we're Skulls!" Saint (the bodybuilder) replied.
With that we clambered down the steps to the yard and strode across the lawn. All of the brothers were huge, as were most of the pledges. I was by far the skinniest guy in the formation.
We walked right through their door. No one even tried to stop us.
The room was large and rather nice. Tan carpet, walls covered with composites and other Triangle regalia, several comfortable chairs, and in the middle of the floor a beautiful mahogany pool table with red felt and leather and brass accents. Two guys were shooting a game as we walked in- maybe twenty guys total in the room- drinking and talking. Only a couple of girls were there, both talking to one guy.
Six guys surrounded the table and, with a mighty heave, picked it up. Their muscles strained- you could see it on their faces. Too heavy? They started carrying the table toward the door as a couple of guys grabbed some cues off the wall rack. The rest of us formed a lane to carry the table through. The Triangle guys just stood there- stunned. We were almost out when-
BONK!
The fucking table doesn't fit through the door: it was too wide. Maybe one of us should've thought of that earlier. They must have assembled it inside. Shit. I turned around.
The Triangle brothers figured out what we were doing, and they outnumbered us almost three to one. And they were pissed off.
Saint and a couple other of the muscle heads tried to turn the table at an angle to get it through. The balls scattered on the floor.
I don't know who threw the first punch. They were on us like a sudden summer storm. I had a beer tossed in my face and was tackled against the table. Suddenly I'm sober. Blocked a punch. Jab back. Connect! One guy let go. Knee up. Connect! I'm free. Guy punched a pledge. Hit the guy in the gut. Pledge smiled at me and lunged. Slammed into guy behind me. Triangle guy flew into me, thrown by somebody. Blocked a punch. Counter hard to the face. My fingers split open on his teeth.
Suddenly I'm in the air. Grabbed from behind… Owww! I'm outside! They fucking threw me outside! Look around. WHAM! One of the pledges landed right on top of me.
A social! I'd heard of these- read about them- but I'd never been to one. The Pi Phis (Pi Beta Phi) came over to party. They had to stay until eleven, at which time they could stay or go. Kind of a mandatory thing to make sure they'd show up, but they could still get out if the party was lame. Socials usually started at nine, but this was a "BBQ Social" where we fired up the grill and made them dinner. Food was one way to guarantee that most of the sisters would be there.
The grill was a large silver painted barrel, maybe five feet long and two to three feet wide with several racks in it at varying heights. With it a person could grill a shitload of food in a hurry- just what we needed for this occasion.
Smoke cascaded from the grill and the front porch was congested with brothers and sisters, everyone in shorts, mini skirts, and tasteful collared shirts. The Pi Phis were obviously one of the top sororities- or at least they thought so- as they were impeccably dressed, groomed and had the proper slightly snobbish, if slightly playful attitude.
There I was, surrounded by hot women! And I couldn't think of anything to say or do. I was so scared and out of place. I wanted to be funny and fun, but I couldn't think of an "in." I was out of my league. So, beer in hand, I walked over to the keg, where a knot of brothers I'd already met were standing.
"Hey! It's good old Lance!" shouted Ernie, causing heads to turn. "Do you drink, Lance?"
I looked down at my plastic cup of beer then smiled at him. "Yeah."
He refilled my cup. "Ok! Let's chug!"
Chugging was downing a beer at one shot without stopping. I never could chug. Still can't. But I tried anyway. Ernie was done before I finished half of mine, but I kept going until the cup was empty anyway.
"Didn't they teach you to chug at Drexel?!?! That's lame!” Ernie laughed, slapped me on the back and refilled my cup.
"Here, I'll show you how. You lean back your head like this to open your throat and just pour it down." He chugged the beer very quickly. His demonstration attracted the attention of a few other brothers and a couple of Pi Phis.
"Ok. Now you try it" he urged.
I did what he said: head back, pour…
And ended up snarfing (spitting out) most of it as my mouth overflowed and my gag reflex kicked in. Beer was all over my shirt, and worse- all over a cute short Pi Phi who wore way too much makeup. She screamed as she was drenched with beer.
The brothers almost fell over laughing. I offered to get towels and whatever else was handy.
"You asshole!" she shouted. Her sisters glared at me as pledges brought towels to dry off her hair and powder blue polo shirt.
Ernie refilled my cup. "Not bad. Try again!"
The sun set and Happy Valley was gearing up for another weekend of fun. The Skull social was still going strong. Piles of grilled burgers, hot dogs, and chicken were heaped upon trays in the dining room. We'd finished three kegs so far. The porch spotlights illuminated the front of the house, making it look like a grand stage where the brothers and guests were the players in a grand production with
I lingered around the edges, my pastel blue and white striped shirt smelling like stale beer. The world was slightly out of focus, yet had an unusual clarity. I had to concentrate to walk straight and speak clearly. Some of the girls still glared at me or whispered as I staggered by. Not a great debut.
View from the Porch. Arts Festival 1988
I joined a group of guys at the top of the porch steps. A couple of pledges each held clear plastic pitchers and refilled the beers of the brothers in the group. I hadn't met the guy who was speaking. He was maybe a couple of inches shorter than me, and solid muscle. He looked like a body builder- in fact he looked like a little Schwarzenegger: squinty eyes, lantern jaw and all. He wore a tight black t-shirt, white shorts, and Dockers, and he pointed at people while speaking.
"I'm telling you guys, their pool table is fuckin' sweet! No way those geeks should have something that nice in their house" he preached.
A bug-eyed pledge refilled my beer. I recognized him- he went to my high school. Graduated a year or so after me. What was his name? The body builder turned to me.
"So do you agree with- who the fuck are you?”
"I'm Lance. I'm a Skull just transferred up from Drexel," I managed to spit out.
He looked at me like I was a repulsive worm ridden corpse.
"Whatever. Anyway Laaance," he said, dragging out the A to make the name sound like an insult, "are you with me on this?"
"Shurr" I slurred. "Ab- absolutely." I gulped down more beer. The pledges smiled. The bodybuilder squinted at me.
"Have you been drinking, Laaance"?
"Yup!” I smiled.
"Well, Laaance from Dorksel, you should learn to control yourself. Here at
I looked around the porch and yard. There was a guy sitting in the hedges, laughing and stuck where he fell. A couple of Pi Phis were trying to help a third down the walkway as she had forgotten how to walk. Drunken shouts of "WOO HOO!" and "YEAH!" pierced the new night. I turned back to the bodybuilder.
"Of course you don't" I smiled. "What am I agreeing to anyway?"
"I was just informing the pledges that those dweebs next door don't deserve such a nice pool table.” He pointed at the house next door. It was a large fraternity house with a dark stained wood exterior- home of Triangle, the engineering fraternity. They were having a party, so all their lights were blazing and people meandered in and out their front door.
"Why don't we go take it from them? We could set it up in the foyer and give it back later" drooled bug eyes.
"Great idea! Now you're getting it!" beamed bodybuilder. "Round up your pledge brothers! I'll get a couple of guys and we'll do this!"
"Mind if I join you?” I asked drunkly.
"Whatever, dork. Just don't get in the way" snarled bodybuilder.
The five pledges assembled in the foyer. Bodybuilder grabbed three other guys who were also pretty big. I recognized one of them as Mike, whom I met on a visit last year.
"Ok guys, we go in, we grab the table and some cues and get right back out. No problem! Pledges, remove your pins," barked the bodybuilder.
"Hey Saint, what if they stop us?” Mike asked.
"They can't. They're pussies and we're Skulls!" Saint (the bodybuilder) replied.
With that we clambered down the steps to the yard and strode across the lawn. All of the brothers were huge, as were most of the pledges. I was by far the skinniest guy in the formation.
We walked right through their door. No one even tried to stop us.
The room was large and rather nice. Tan carpet, walls covered with composites and other Triangle regalia, several comfortable chairs, and in the middle of the floor a beautiful mahogany pool table with red felt and leather and brass accents. Two guys were shooting a game as we walked in- maybe twenty guys total in the room- drinking and talking. Only a couple of girls were there, both talking to one guy.
Six guys surrounded the table and, with a mighty heave, picked it up. Their muscles strained- you could see it on their faces. Too heavy? They started carrying the table toward the door as a couple of guys grabbed some cues off the wall rack. The rest of us formed a lane to carry the table through. The Triangle guys just stood there- stunned. We were almost out when-
BONK!
The fucking table doesn't fit through the door: it was too wide. Maybe one of us should've thought of that earlier. They must have assembled it inside. Shit. I turned around.
The Triangle brothers figured out what we were doing, and they outnumbered us almost three to one. And they were pissed off.
Saint and a couple other of the muscle heads tried to turn the table at an angle to get it through. The balls scattered on the floor.
I don't know who threw the first punch. They were on us like a sudden summer storm. I had a beer tossed in my face and was tackled against the table. Suddenly I'm sober. Blocked a punch. Jab back. Connect! One guy let go. Knee up. Connect! I'm free. Guy punched a pledge. Hit the guy in the gut. Pledge smiled at me and lunged. Slammed into guy behind me. Triangle guy flew into me, thrown by somebody. Blocked a punch. Counter hard to the face. My fingers split open on his teeth.
Suddenly I'm in the air. Grabbed from behind… Owww! I'm outside! They fucking threw me outside! Look around. WHAM! One of the pledges landed right on top of me.
Some of our brothers
started running over from the house. I saw bug eyes slamming some guys
head against the front walk near Triangles door.
"You ok?” I asked.
He flailed his arms at me. "Get the fuck away from me!"
"I'm an E.M.T. Let me help!"
"Go away!"
I shrugged. Can't help them if they say no. The other two Triangles waved me off as well.
I slowly, painfully, stood up and walked back to the house with the others. The spotlighted brothers cheered as we crossed the lawn and mounted the stairs to the porch. One of them fingered at my torn shirt (when did that happen?) and another handed me a fresh beer. One of the pledges high-fived me.
A few minutes later, the ambulance came to pick up the guy on Triangle's front walk. Bystanders gathered to gawk. Triangle's president and Soap, our Alpha, talked quietly under the large tree between our houses. As the paramedics carried the Triangle guy to the ambulance, we all applauded and shouted encouragement to him. After a few minutes, Soap came back and went into the house to speak to a few select brothers- the officers I guess.
The ambulance left- sirens blaring. We continued with our party. I met a few more brothers, some of whom had ignored me before. They weren't exactly friendly, but they weren't rude either. I didn't see Saint for the rest of the night. After a few more beers, I noticed that there were a lot fewer girls around. I heard some feminine laughter upstairs, so I guess some of the party went there. The rest dispersed into the warm early autumn night.
I looked out over the lawn at the cars cruising downBeaver Avenue .
What a blast! I was quite trashed, my shirt was torn and bloody,
and I had some damp paper towels around my injured fingers.
I smiled, downed the last of my beer, and teetered slowly back to the apartment.
Triangle's door and front lawn, January 2018.
By the time other brothers arrived, it was over. The
Triangle had tossed us all out of the house and closed the door. We had
some cuts and bruises. Three Triangle guys were lying outside, groaning.
The guy that bug eyes was bashing was twitching and moaning.
Bleeding from the head. I crawled over to him. "You ok?” I asked.
He flailed his arms at me. "Get the fuck away from me!"
"I'm an E.M.T. Let me help!"
"Go away!"
I shrugged. Can't help them if they say no. The other two Triangles waved me off as well.
I slowly, painfully, stood up and walked back to the house with the others. The spotlighted brothers cheered as we crossed the lawn and mounted the stairs to the porch. One of them fingered at my torn shirt (when did that happen?) and another handed me a fresh beer. One of the pledges high-fived me.
A few minutes later, the ambulance came to pick up the guy on Triangle's front walk. Bystanders gathered to gawk. Triangle's president and Soap, our Alpha, talked quietly under the large tree between our houses. As the paramedics carried the Triangle guy to the ambulance, we all applauded and shouted encouragement to him. After a few minutes, Soap came back and went into the house to speak to a few select brothers- the officers I guess.
The ambulance left- sirens blaring. We continued with our party. I met a few more brothers, some of whom had ignored me before. They weren't exactly friendly, but they weren't rude either. I didn't see Saint for the rest of the night. After a few more beers, I noticed that there were a lot fewer girls around. I heard some feminine laughter upstairs, so I guess some of the party went there. The rest dispersed into the warm early autumn night.
I looked out over the lawn at the cars cruising down
I smiled, downed the last of my beer, and teetered slowly back to the apartment.
"But in the end, I never was a Man. I never was a boy. I was a a Woman- female- playing a bad parody of manhood. Now I'm trying to figure out the meaning of That."
ReplyDeleteThis really resonates with me Sophie! Thank you
'this was a "BBQ Social" where we fired up the grill and made them dinner'
ReplyDeleteI mentioned in an earlier comment I wasn't in the frat scene. The only thing that might have tempted me was the smell of the grills. One term I had a late afternoon class and walked home to my off-campus apartment past a bunch of frats (Locust Lane, I think it was). I envied the frat boys their food, that was for sure.