At Big 10 schools, tailgating is almost as much of a priority as attending the athletics events themselves. Okay, so when I say “athletics events,” I guess I mean football. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten plastered at an IU Swim meet tailgate.
But the grassy knolls across from the stadium are a prime location for slurred speech and impaired motor functions. Irrational conversation is now suave and stumbling can be sexy. Today’s Homecoming crowd brought the best of the best to the table.
Costume Party
It’s a sad state of affairs when you can’t distinguish those in costume from those wearing the end product of their drunken Friday evenings. For instance, I met a gentleman cleverly clad in what looked like an Eeyore costume (from Winnie the Pooh, duh). But, using his mix of slurred speech and the tone of a depressed donkey, he assured me that it was no costume, but his wardrobe choice at 4:00am several hours prior to leaving for tailgating. “Noboddyyyy likessss meeeeeee.”
I also approached a fan sporting what looked like a jumpsuit from Ghostbusters. Before I could say anything, he demanded that I thank him for ridding the game of all supernatural activity. I thanked him, and he ran off.
The award for innovation went to the student rocking a red Keystone 12-pack as a helmet. No, he didn't
just pick it up there off the ground. "Dude, I got this lassnite in my neighbor's yard. It didn't haf the hole innit though, and I said 'how can I breathe?' That was easy- I juss teared a hole to breathe! Look around man,
nobody has what I got!"
Finally, when I thought I had seen the last of all costumes, I spotted a screaming belligerent student soaked in beer and covered in items that had been thrown at him as he flicked off hundreds of students surrounding him. Oh wait, that was a Penn State fan.
Polite Misunderstandings
Usually, crowded parties are prime spots for stepping on toes and bumping into strangers. But the tailgate is a different breed of party, and the discrete, “Oops, I’m sorry” or “My bad” just doesn’t quite suffice for some situations.
I spotted the Hummer at Acacia’s setup equipped with thousands of dollars worth of audio equipment and flat screen monitors. Really impressive. Immediately, I wanted to find the owner, and saw a kid headed for the driver’s door. As he opened it, I tapped him and asked, “Dude, is this thing yours?”
The two possible responses in my mind were “yes” or “no.” How dare I make assumptions. His response: “Nah dude, I’m-takina-fuggin-piss. Gimme sum prifacy.” No problem.
I was mistaken in my assumption that I could challenge a student to a game of basketball on what looked like an inflatable basketball hoop in his truck bed. I was so wrong.
Instead, this was a drinking game that involved taking shots more than making them. It must have been getting late, because from his description of the rules, it sounded like this kid’s supplies were running low: “Whatever you’re drinkin, it’s gotta get you hammered. No ketchup or any of that business. Honestly dude, if it’s not vodka or sperm, I’m not gunna drink it.” He was face-down in the grass several minutes later. No worries, a diverse team consisting of Eeyore and the
Ghostbusters guy helped him up.
Finally, the day’s best pickup line goes to this guy:
This guy: So what year are you, babygirl?
Her: I’m a freshman. How about you? Are you in a fraternity?
This guy: I’m a…sophomore…in Dental school…so I think we should just make out right now…
"I’m-takina-fuggin-piss. Gimme sum prifacy”
Linear Mode
