Memo to S.S. Carter
Subject: The Beer Olympics
Date: 3/18/12
Sunday, March 12th 2012 sometime around 8pm
I
got a text message while I was over at my buddy Chance’s apartment. We
were sitting in our makeshift office; which at this point contained a
few mismatched chairs, a desk, and a small glass table that sat in the
middle of the room. I fucking loved that glass table; that’s the only
real reason to mention it. This elegant old thing had most definitely
been through the ringer. Its wood had faded and the table’s second level
that sat a mere four inches from the floor, bore the significant chew
marks from Chance’s little dog. The most beautiful part of this old
wooden end table was its glass center that was jaggedly cracked on one
of its side. Almost every day I came into our office that glass was
covered in the guts of fallen soldiers; their brown insides and the
dusty white-grey residue was always a reminder of what our work
entailed.
The text I had gotten was from one of my fraternity brothers (Daniel) about the upcoming St. Patrick’s Day party.
“I’m recruiting you for my four man team in the Beer ‘Lympics at Kevin’s house on Saturday.” The message read on the cracked screen of my FX Sharp cellphone.
“I’m recruiting you for my four man team in the Beer ‘Lympics at Kevin’s house on Saturday.” The message read on the cracked screen of my FX Sharp cellphone.
I
looked at my phone in a hushed excitement. I quickly responded that I
humbly accepted my chance to compete alongside my brothers. I would join
the team.
Wednesday, March 14th 2012 sometime around 6pm
I
got a phone call from one of my fraternity brothers over at Chance’s
apartment. I departed from the office; pardoning myself from our usual
war-game. I exited the apartment with Chance’s dog a tiny little puppy
barking as I gently closed the front door behind me.
“What’s up James?” I asked.
I
had not been expecting a phone call and my mind was quite hazed.
Quietly allowing my mind to drift onto thoughts of the further soldiers
that would be lost on this fine warm evening in Lakeland I seemingly
missed the first few seconds of James’ response.
“…..so would you?” I heard James’ voice spit out through the speaker of my phone.
“I’m sorry James; I didn’t catch that. Would I do what?” I quickly remarked hoping he would not notice that I had drifted off.
“I
said would you want to come up with and perform the opening monologue
to the Beer Olympics on Saturday?” James’ voice crackled once more
through my phone.
For a few brief seconds my mind raced with the endless possibilities.
“Sounds like fun. Count me in.” I replied.
A chance to speak publicly would never go undone.
Saturday, March 17th 2012 11:30am
Groggily I woke up to my phone’s alarm going off. I grabbed the ringing vibrating phone and sat up.
A chance to speak publicly would never go undone.
Saturday, March 17th 2012 11:30am
Groggily I woke up to my phone’s alarm going off. I grabbed the ringing vibrating phone and sat up.
“11:30! Fuck!” I shouted as I leapt out of bed.
The Beer Olympics began at noon. I quickly gathered the materials needed to shower and raced to the decaying bathroom of Dell Hall. The shower stalls were located behind a disgusting row of three stalls. The tiles of the shower stalls had weathered quite a beating in the twenty years they had been in use. I quickly turned on the water which spat out of a faucet at its own lackluster pace. Quickly I washed my hair and body knowing I had very little time. I finished my shower and rushed back to my room. Contacts, deodorant, teeth brushed, hair brushed, button-down shirt, jeans, socks, shoes, cologne, sunglasses; I was looking fly.
The Beer Olympics began at noon. I quickly gathered the materials needed to shower and raced to the decaying bathroom of Dell Hall. The shower stalls were located behind a disgusting row of three stalls. The tiles of the shower stalls had weathered quite a beating in the twenty years they had been in use. I quickly turned on the water which spat out of a faucet at its own lackluster pace. Quickly I washed my hair and body knowing I had very little time. I finished my shower and rushed back to my room. Contacts, deodorant, teeth brushed, hair brushed, button-down shirt, jeans, socks, shoes, cologne, sunglasses; I was looking fly.
11:46am Text to Brandon: “Hey man can I bum a ride to Kevin’s?”
11:50am Text from Brandon: “I’ve got a full car.”
11:51am Text to Brandon: “Damn. Lol I’m stuck at school. :P”
After the last text to Brandon I got a phone call roughly thirty seconds later.
“Hey Brandon.” I answered.
“Hey Ryan, where are you?” Brandon asked.
“I’m over at Dell; why?” I asked hoping that the answer would involve me having a ride to the Beer Olympics.
“I’ll be over to get you in five minutes.” Brandon said before hanging up.
I
quickly grabbed my brown messenger bag and made sure I had a few
soldiers still ready for battle. I spied the shiny red bag and could
tell that the pack was still full; pleased I checked my appearance in
the mirror and then left my room.
I
walked calmly out to Brandon’s bright red mustang. He hadn’t lied when
he said his car was full. A beautiful little brunette sat in the
passenger seat of the two door red stallion; she immediately had my
undivided attention. Brandon sat in the driver’s seat hurrying me along,
three of my buddies sat squished together in the back seat. Three
distinct options began forming in my mind based on previous experiences
with full small two door cars: passenger seat, trunk of the car, and
back seat. I could end up paired with the short haired cutie, stuffed
into the trunk, or squished into the already squished back. Only one of
those choices seemed like a decent option; though figuring my luck
wasn’t that good I had resolved myself to being stuffed into the already
cramped back seat.
“You’re gonna have to lay across the guys in the back Ryan.” Brandon said with a smirk.
Sadistic
bastard; I thought to myself. I knew that this would now be quite an
awkward journey; lying across the laps of a brother and two of my fraternity's pledges. The pretty girl in the passenger was even more
beautiful up close then I had previously thought. She stepped out of the
car in a blue shirt that was sleeveless with the words “get naked”
printed on the front; her tight form fitting black jeans followed her
legs down to her tiny feet that bore flats with no socks. She stepped
out of the red mustang her brown hair shinning in the brilliant
sunlight; a little blond patch dotted her hair on her right side.
It
was a beautiful sunny March day in Florida; this girl opening the door
for me and giving me the up down had really gotten me pumped. Now we all
were cruising along in Brandon’s sweet red stallion which made the trip
with my feet dangling out the passenger window seem quite bearable. We
arrived at the parking lot across the street from Kevin’s house; rule
was you never parked in front of Kevin’s house. I escaped from the sweet
red mustang turned clown car and stretched out enjoying my new found
freedom. It was then on this beautiful day I remembered I had a speech
to make that I hadn’t written.
“Fuck!” I muttered to myself.
I sat down Indian style with my back up against the back of the car next to us in the parking lot. My brown messenger bag appeared with remarkable speed and I quickly began rummaging for a soldier. I continued my search for the necessary items for my procedure and when it was done had my knife, a black binder, swisher sweet, bag of fun, space case, and a bright chipper attitude. Brandon, Luke, Tim, Jimmy, and Nicole all passengers in our recent clown car adventure stood and watch as I prepared the soldier for battle. With a flick of the knife and the hands of a trained craftsman I had the man ready for battle in no time at all.
I sat down Indian style with my back up against the back of the car next to us in the parking lot. My brown messenger bag appeared with remarkable speed and I quickly began rummaging for a soldier. I continued my search for the necessary items for my procedure and when it was done had my knife, a black binder, swisher sweet, bag of fun, space case, and a bright chipper attitude. Brandon, Luke, Tim, Jimmy, and Nicole all passengers in our recent clown car adventure stood and watch as I prepared the soldier for battle. With a flick of the knife and the hands of a trained craftsman I had the man ready for battle in no time at all.
Saturday, March 17th 2012 1:53pm
James and I were on our way back, with Brian, from the liquor store; riding in James’ red Jeep Cherokee. We had stopped at McDonald’s on the way back because Brian had complained that he hadn’t eaten all day; attempting to cover up the fact that he drinks like a little girl. I chuckled to myself at the prospect of all this underage drinking. What college in America was all about I thought to myself. The soldier’s valiant battle still fresh in my mind as we arrived back at Kevin’s house from our trip to the liquor store. As each one of us entered the house a triumphant cheer erupted. Carrying two gallon jugs of OJ, a half-gallon of Cranberry juice, and a two liter of regular coke we entered the house as returning heroes. I saw Nicole, that gorgeous little brunette from across the room and I once more gave her a once over.
James and I were on our way back, with Brian, from the liquor store; riding in James’ red Jeep Cherokee. We had stopped at McDonald’s on the way back because Brian had complained that he hadn’t eaten all day; attempting to cover up the fact that he drinks like a little girl. I chuckled to myself at the prospect of all this underage drinking. What college in America was all about I thought to myself. The soldier’s valiant battle still fresh in my mind as we arrived back at Kevin’s house from our trip to the liquor store. As each one of us entered the house a triumphant cheer erupted. Carrying two gallon jugs of OJ, a half-gallon of Cranberry juice, and a two liter of regular coke we entered the house as returning heroes. I saw Nicole, that gorgeous little brunette from across the room and I once more gave her a once over.
“Damn.” I muttered as I walked to the kitchen.
Kevin and the rest of the gathered masses which was group of about twenty people had been quite busy in my absence. Shots had been distributed to everyone and the opening ceremony was about to begin. I quickly made myself a rather strong screwdriver and proceed to take a large gulp. The alcohol stung that great sting as it smoothly rushed down to my stomach. Some tall fat man with glasses I did not know handed me a shot. I set down my screwdriver; sad to be parting with the drink so soon and ascended to the top of a conveniently placed wooden chair. The shot in my left hand my phone in my right I stood atop my chair waiting as the opening ceremony of “The Beer ‘Lympics” began.
Live on.
---
The Speech
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