Fear and Loathing in Victoria

When I was in college, my best college buddy was Brittany. In fact, Brittany is still my best college buddy. We shared in the tribulation that was shoe-box sized dorm living, we ate the obligatory cases of ramen noodles together, we went through rush together and of course had many fabulously horrific drunken misadventures together. You've met college, right? Yeah.

So basically during the first few years after my mom passed away, I was in a rotation of spending holidays with friends. Once, when we had a break from school - Fall break I believe? I went to Victoria to see the place from which Brittany originated.

What I can say about Victoria: Hi...I'm in Victoria...

Though I imagine those that visit Amarillo harbor somewhat similar feelings. Nonetheless, I toured the outskirts just barely outside of Victoria and arrived in the small municipality of Raisin - where Brittany's family resides. Raisin' Texas, y'all!

Brittany's house is on a rather sizable chunk of land, and out behind it is a two story barn. Or at least, it WAS a barn. It had since been remodeled to a sort of back house that had couches, a pool table and a refrigerator filled with a veritable smorgasbord of alcohol. I was twenty, and to me this was a thing of unadulterated majesty. However, Brittany's brother Cody had completely decimated the stash. The only things that were left were as follows: Hot Damn and Jager.


Now if you know anything about alcohol, you know that those two drinks are, well, rough. And even more rough? A combination of the two. At this point in my life, I was equally unacquainted with what both of those drinks were. So I, as well as Brittany, thought...."hey, why not combine the two?" The evening started with one shot of each and as far as I can recollect, ended in a mixed drink of the two.

All I know, is at one point I was talking to Cody about politics and totally smashing the Bush administration. Then? Nothing.

The next thing I knew, I was in the hot tub. I didn't realize what was going on, or how I ended up there. All I knew is that I was alone, until I heard someone calling me. I looked around, and there was Cody standing outside of the hot tub. He said "Mary, are you okay? You're not going to fall asleep in there...are you?" "How did I get here?" I say. "I have no idea, I just came outside and here you were" said Cody. I look down, to my horror, and see what I'm wearing. Here's a hint: it's not a bathing suit. Don't worry! I wasn't naked or anything! What I WAS wearing was my pink bra and a pair of Brittany's mom's spandex bicycle shorts.

What?!

I think I know, in retrospect, where I got the bicycle shorts. Earlier that day, I was hanging out with Brittany and Debbie, her mom, in Debbie's room. Upon entry into her quarters, I saw that she had a gazelle! Woooohooo!


Please tell me this doesn't look fun guys. If you tell me it doesn't look fun you are being a filth monster. It's like gliding along on poofy clouds at a superhuman SPEED! Like...Pocahontas painting with the colors of the damn wind!

I got overly excited about the gazelle, which may be apparent at this point. So I happily pounced on it and started wailing away doin' mah thang. Then I started being goofy and overly exaggerating my leg movements. The next thing I knew, my center of gravity was compromised - and the NEXT thing I knew was that I was laid out on the floor, my feet having just flown out from under me, on my back, with my legs sticking straight up and the wind completely knocked out of me.

This is something Brittany and her mom STILL give me hell about. There's even footage of Brittany's mom telling this story on Brittany's wedding video. Awesome.

So anyway, I have a sneaking suspicion that drunk giggly hot tubbin' Mary decided to sneak into Debbie's room and abscond with a pair of schexy bicycle shorts to use as a swimsuit.

The next day, after a rather large mexican food lunch and too many tylenol gel caps, Brittany and I headed aft back to San Marcos. Mostly in silence. I turned to her and said "Brit? I'm never doing that again." "Never EVER hot damn and jager again - it erases our memories and renders us lunatics" said Brittany. "Yes" I agreed, head hung in humiliation. "Yes it does."