Men of the Skull Chapter 53: Monday Night Shakespeare

As I wrote in this chapter: Penn Staters could make a drinking game out of anything.

The class in question was English 444: Shakespeare.  Professor MacAdams.  He was very passionate about Shakespeare, and it was contagious.  At least it was to me.  But the seed had already been planted in me.  I write about that HERE. 

There is a lot of foul language and misogyny in this chapter.  The language, well, we were drinking.  The misogyny... before I transitioned I did my best to be as "manly" as possible.  And I saw almost every guy I know refer to women (and their body parts) in this way.  So I did.  I didn't want anyone to even guess the "shameful secret" I hid.  And that's where I was while writing this book.

Now then, looking back, should I correct that in editing?  I should- the "tits" reference at least.  part of me says "no- that's where I was then."  But I was an asshole back then.  So...

******************************************************************

Chapter 53: Monday Night Shakespeare

Monday, March 16, 1987 Braving pain to confront Klaus Barbie at trial

            I had trouble reading all the assignments for my Shakespeare class.  It’s all Ye Olde English!  And besides, they’re plays-they’re meant to be seen.

            I discovered that Pattee library on campus had all of Shakespeare’s plays on video, performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company.  Yes!  The answer to my problem!

            So, since I had Tuesdays off, Monday nights became Shakespeare nights, where I’d watch that week’s play.  After Chapter meeting, and while drinking, of course.

            Within a week or two I wasn’t alone.  There were two people from my class that joined me.  John was a Sig Tau Gamma (the ROTC fraternity across the street from the apartment.)  He was crew cut and gung ho, but not as “hardcore” as some of the others.  He was laid back.  John brought along his girlfriend Shannon who was in the class as well.  She was cute, nice tits, incredible legs.  She also had a scar down the left side of her face, the result of an angry dog attack when she was very young.  She had a cute smile, grey eyes, and wavy brown hair that went just past her shoulders.

            As time went by, Virginia would join us.  Dave usually showed up too.  He loved a good night of drinking and culture and drinking.

            We are Penn Staters!  Anything can be a drinking game, even the Bard.  When the play ended, discussion began over drinking games.  We sat around my small square living room table.  As usual, Mark was asleep in the other room, so we spoke quietly.

           

The Bard's Grave, May 2018

            “I don’t know how convinced Henry was of himself and his troops when he gave that speech,” I said.  “Or maybe it was just the way the guy portrayed it.”

            “Didn’t need to be convinced as long as the troops believed,” John said.

            “King gives three.  All yours, asshole,” Dave said, pointing his elbow at me.

            “Mother fucker!”  I said, then drank.

            “They seemed to believe,” Shannon said.  “I wonder how accurate this was compared to what really happened.”

            “Fairly close.  I was a massacre, but mostly because Henry executed his prisoners.  Ten consumes nothing” Dave said, dealing to John.

            “Why?”  I asked, finishing my three drinks.

            “Because those are the fucking rules.  Ten doesn’t drink,” Dave said.

            “Ha ha” I said, sarcastically.

            “Two consumes two,” Dave said, dealing to Shannon.  Because the French really did slaughter the camp followers.  Henry was pissed off so he ordered the immediate death of all the prisoners.  I think they had ten thousand of them or something.  Four consumes four,” he said, dealing to Virginia.

            “That’s fucked up,” I said.

            “Ace drinks five!”  Dave said, dealing to me.

            “That’s a rule!”  I said, preparing to finish my Milwaukee’s Best.

            “So Shakespeare cleaned it up a bit.  That makes sense,” Shannon said.  “I mean, he couldn’t just bad mouth a king.”

            “He does in Richard III,” John said.

            “That’s true,” Shannon said.

            “Maybe it depended on what king,” Virginia said.

            I finished my five and belched loudly.  Virginia punched my arm- Hard.

            “Owww!”

            “Shakespeare didn’t like rude Skull pigs either,” she said.

            I stood to get another beer from the fridge.  “Anyone need one?”

            Two hands raised.

            Came back with three beers and opened mine.

            “Ok, the rule is ‘no cursing!’”  I said.  It was Dave’s least favorite rule, as when he got drunk he cursed worse than a rude Skull pig.

            “You fucker!”  Dave said before dealing the next card, which would start the rule.

            “Do you think they had Henry’s penitent soliloquy as a way of Shakespeare trying to show redemption for the royal family?”  I said.

            “What?”  John said.

            “Are you a fuckin’ essay question?”  Dave said.

            “Consume!” three of us said, pointing elbows at Dave.

Dave at my Beaver Hill apartment on a Monday night.  1987

            “I think it’s a good question!”  Shannon said, then leaned over to high five me.

            “So what’s the answer then?”  John said, looking at her with a touch of jealousy.

            “I have nooo idea!  Why don’t you ask in class?”  Shannon said.

            “I will” John said.

           

            And so the cards went round.  We became drunk and educated at the same time.  We are Penn State! 

I think Willy Shakes would have approved.

Next Chapter

Last Chapter

First Chapter