In honor of February being my birth month, I'm going to provide some stories from past birthdays that have surely gone done in history.
For my 20th, as a sophomore at WVU living in a basement in Sunnyside, I invited all my friends over for a pregame. My little sister and her current roommate even attended, as seniors in high school. This was the same time in my life that my parents were divorcing and I was losing my shit mentally. That night I did a random assortment of drugs on top of drinking. My friend, let's call her Susie, was by my side all night... doing all the same shit.
Later on in the night, after drinking this, smoking that, and snorting whatever, we decided to head downtown. Back in those days, before the horrendous fake I used for a few months before I turned 21... we frequented places like Chasers N Dreams, Tabu, and Karma... this night, we chose Karma.
I have and always will hate clubs... and I fucking hated Karma. Chasers was my underage club of choice. They always played good music, had penny pitchers, and you were almost always guaranteed to witness an extravagant hot mess. These types of scenes were usually, but not limited to, nasty-ass girls on a pole in some makeshift cage provided by Chasers, or apparent penetration on the dance floor. Yes, penetration. There was always some unfortunate-looking slut getting railed in the middle of a drunken crowd.
I have no idea who convinced me to go to Karma, but it happened. Probably, because Chasers' line was wrapped around to the side street. Ain't nobody got time for that. Fucked up beyond belief, Susie and I found our way to the dance floor. She quickly made friends with a boy, most likely to obtain alcoholic beverages, and I managed to get myself a drink. Susie was now making out with said boy on the dance floor, who resembled a meatball straight off the STD train from Jersey. He was no taller than she and his name was, coincidentally, Dylan. I was not amused.
All I wanted was McNuggets. I loafed around the club a little bit and finally called my seventeen year old sister to come pick me up. Susie, at the time, did not want to leave. She can be a stubborn drunk when she thinks she's having fun. Her phone was apparently dead, so I told her if and when she wanted to come home, use Pauly D's phone to call me. Surprisingly, this isn't a difficult task when drunk, since my number is so memorable to my friends. Those bitches give my number out to rando's at the bar ALL THE DAMN TIME. It never fails that on random nights out, I'll have a text saying, "Hey girl, it's _______, how you doin'?" Sometimes, I play along, others I break the news bluntly and sarcastically. Nothing gives me more joy than fucking with some creep trying to rape one of my friends.
So, I left Susie to fend for herself with the Jersey Shore wannabe. My sister and her friend came and got me, and we drove ferociously to obtain McNuggets. In the drive thru, I got a call from a random number. It was Susie... she was ready to come home... and sounded a little distraught. We were on the other campus at McDonald's, so I told her to hold tight. Sadly, she wasn't my main priority, she could've easily left with me before, so those Nugs took precedence.
We drove back downtown with delectable McD's in our hands to scoop Susie up from the club. We were driving on High Street, slowing down outside Karma, where I specifically told the twat to wait, but didn't see her immediately. We finally spotted her after a small crowd dispersed from the sidewalk, pinned against a brick wall, in broad view of High Street and all it's surroundings, making out with a burly, cornrowed, black man. I rolled down the window and yelled at her to get her ass in the car. I knew she wouldn't be pleased with the misfortune of aggressively making out with someone on the busiest street in town.... let alone with some hoodrat sporting South Pole clothing and a do-rag.
* Disclaimer: I'm in no way racist. I may come off so in my writings, but it's simply to provide visual representation. I've been known to court a black man, but some of my friends aren't on the same page.
That's when, all of us in the car, were taken aback. The man turned around as Susie walked towards the car and we all got a good look at the mysterious figure... he was none other than a SHE. Susie had somehow managed to meet an alluring black lesbian on the streets of Morgantown. I don't know if it was her obvious masculinity or her somewhat sketchy, yet approachable demeanor, but Susie felt comfortable around he/she. To her defense, she was very manly. I may have been easily confused myself, considering the cocktail of drugs and alcohol we were both on, but I had sobered up... and wasn't a complete imbecile. My sister, her friend and I instantly lost our shit. Susie, on the other was not pleased. She got in the car, with her gloomy face and googly drunk eyes and whimpered, "I thought it was a boy!"
I seriously cannot make this shit up. It is by far one of my favorite stories of Susie, a friend I've had since we were in kindergarten. What makes this unbelievable scenario even funnier is that she is neither attracted to black men, nor women. This was definitely out of character for Susie. Usually, we can count on her for some loud, obnoxious, drunken fun... in the form of an awkward dance display or random, public bar make-out sessions. Either way, she's simply the best. I always have a good time with Susie, no matter what the circumstances.
More to come from #Susie!
And more to come from my memorable birthdays!
Have a glorious day, bitchez.
-DMS
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