In some ways, this was a typical Saturday night fraternity party. I don't know how many kegs Crow went through at a party, but, at Skull, we would finish 25-30 kegs on a given Thursday or Saturday night. Crow had 2 taps, if memory serves. We had three on a keg cooler behind the bar.
It's funny. Beer swill on the bar and floor were a given. You never wore good shoes, as the floor was really sticky with beer and cigarette butts. Back then, people smoked. It didn't matter as much because the smell in a basement bar was terrible anyway. And the air outside was polluted as well, no matter where you went. Clean air standards have REALLY helped with that! (Damn liberals!) (That's sarcasm.)
Another thing about floor beer swill- if you fell into it, it left a stain. That stain would NEVER come out- dirt, beer, ash, whatever else. Most houses' party floors were tile, so they were easy to hose down and clean after a party. But... they still smelled of stale beer.
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Virginia was drunk. She was behind the bar at Crow while we
played the usual Flip a Cup/ Three man games and it was only about one AM. But she went to Lil Sister Happies before
coming here, so she’d been drinking for maybe seven hours, and even she had her
limits. Tonight she wore her black
Skullympics shirt which had her letters on the back. Nothing fancy.
Virginia turned and kneed him right in the
nuts.Virginia turned to me and smiled.
It's funny. Beer swill on the bar and floor were a given. You never wore good shoes, as the floor was really sticky with beer and cigarette butts. Back then, people smoked. It didn't matter as much because the smell in a basement bar was terrible anyway. And the air outside was polluted as well, no matter where you went. Clean air standards have REALLY helped with that! (Damn liberals!) (That's sarcasm.)
Another thing about floor beer swill- if you fell into it, it left a stain. That stain would NEVER come out- dirt, beer, ash, whatever else. Most houses' party floors were tile, so they were easy to hose down and clean after a party. But... they still smelled of stale beer.
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Chapter 49: Assisted
Early Sunday, February 21, 1987 Levine sentenced to 2 years for
insider-trading scheme
Remember this?
It
didn’t help that the older alum standing
next to her behind the bar kept giving her drinks, and made her “Three-man” (or
“Three bitch” as he called her.) I’m
guessing he was in his thirties. His
dark hair was in full retreat from the top of his head, and he had a big beer
gut. He wore jeans and a white dress
shirt with a big collar, and several gold chains. Disco Duck!
He was definitely trying to get her drunk and fuck her. I smiled- this should be fun to watch.
The
idea that he might succeed never entered my mind. Why should it?
“Pour some shugah on meeeee!” blasted
Def Leppard from the speakers. Disco
swayed to the song as he tried to flip the cup in front of him. He failed twice, drank, and, smiling, passed
the cup to Virginia . She smiled and thanked him. Rubbed the rim of the cup around in the beer
swill on top of the bar for “traction” and flipped.
Plastic
cups make a hollow pop when they land top down on the bar.
“Consume,
dear!” she pointed her elbow at me.
I
tapped the cup on the bar and raised it over my head (current rules, aside from
DDD) and drank. The dice came to me and
I rolled. 4 and 1: Popsicle!
Disco was last to put his finger on his nose, so he drank. Rolled again: 5 and 4: nothing I passed the
dice to Virginia, who missed on her third flip, and passed the cup to me. Someone down the bar scored with the other
cup and shouted for Virginia
to drink, which she did.
She
rolled: 3 and 1. She gave the “Three
man” honor to Mandy, who was down the other side of the short bar from
her.
And
so it went. Disco kept talking to her
but I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
She said stuff back, but it was more about current events around Crow
house. He kept smiling and inching
closer to her.
“An ain-gel’s smahl is what you sell. You promise me heav-un, then put me through
hell!” shouted Bon Jovi.
Sure enough, Disco
eventually put his arm around her and tried to kiss her.
“I said NO,
ASSHOLE!” she shouted, a look of drunken fury in her eyes.
The room went
silent except for the music.
“You give love a bad name!”
Then people began
to laugh and the noise started up again.
Disco picked himself off the floor, angrily spurning offers of
help. His white shirt was covered with
grey beer muck.
He stood and glared
at Virginia who glared right back at him: tense, breathing heavily. He looked like he was about to say something
when two guys hustled him back through the open door in back of the bar. I think he shouted something about “little
sisters” but I couldn’t quite hear. The
opening chords of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” blasting from the speaker next to me
obscured everything.
“I love my
brothers. They watch out for us!”
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