Birthday Weekend

By , Marietta, GA
At the end of October this past year, my friend Brian calls me early in the week and conjures a plot about my birthday. He starts off by saying it’s my nineteenth birthday and we should get together since we haven’t seen each other for a while. Brian goes to school in Valdosta and plays golf. He is really down to earth and has good morals, for the most part. So, we devise an innovative plan for the weekend and list all the things we want to accomplish. It starts out with me driving to Valdosta for Thursday night then head to Saint Simons for a party on Friday night, my birthday, on October 30. Then, we leave Saint Simons and go to the UGA vs. Florida rivalry game on the 31st in Jacksonville, FL and wing it from there hopefully ending up safely in Statesboro that Sunday. We both agree that this is the most brilliant idea ever. This is my story:
Thursday
After my calculus test at eleven, I hop in my car with all my clothes, costumes, and the other essentials I needed to bring for a successful trip. Around 1p.m., I leave Statesboro and head toward highway 301 to go to Valdosta. Thirty minutes into the drive, I read my Garmin and of course obey its directions. She tells me to turn down a dirt road that looks something similar to the dirt road in the most recent Halloween movie. I trust my Garmin and say to myself that it’s no big deal and everything will be fine. So, I venture down this dirt road passing houses and stray dogs for about two miles. I am freaking out because it’s about 2 p.m. and the residents should be home. On either sides of the road there are five foot ditches for the entire way. I am startled so I floor it and decide to get off this sketchy road as fast as I can. My back two wheels practically had no traction causing me to skid and swerve. Honestly, I didn’t even care about my car at that point; I was trying not to be shot for what seemed like trespassing. Finally, I make it out of the horror film and reach some road I was supposed to be on in the first place. Thank you Garmin.
Eventually I reach Valdosta at 4:30 p.m. and meet up with Brian. He shows me around campus, and we eat dinner at one of their dining halls. Soon after, we head to Brian’s friend’s house and get his Hooters hostess outfit. Brian is so skinny that he looks like a victim from Auschwitz in his Halloween costume. I take a picture of him and laugh for looking like an idiot. We get back to his room so I can get changed. Brian’s girlfriend had been waiting on us for a while because she is ready to go to his fraternity’s party. When we get to her room, I see eight beautiful girls dressed up in costumes awaiting the party. Before long, Brian and I leave and drive his car to the party. Brian and I park his car behind an elementary school that is across the street from the party. The only place to park is behind and giant brick wall and near a dumpster. Immediately, we jump out of the car and go to the party reluctantly discovering a band, one hundred and fifty people, and a keg. So far this night has been pretty awesome. I am dressed like a red-neck truck driver and talking to my old high school friends that I knew at the party. Around 11 p.m. we decide that we want to go to a bar downtown called Flip Flops. In Valdosta, Flip Flops is the most popular bar and serves customers until 1 a.m. We round up our crew and travel together until we split up again to get into random cars. Brian and I wanted to see if his car was still at the place we had left it. Sure enough it had been towed. In turn, Brian launches his keys toward the ground smashing them, causing them to explode on impact. Twenty minutes later we round up the missing pieces and go eat at another dining hall called Hopper. We eat with a cute girl I met earlier and have breakfast food. Around 2 a.m. I walk the cute girl, Kelsey, back to her dorm room while we make out the entire way. After I drop her off at her room I sprint back to Brian’s room and pass out instantly.
Friday
I wake up on my birthday with a horrible hangover. My head is throbbing every time my heart beats. Before we can leave for Saint Simons we have to get Brian’s car from the pound. Generously I front him $80 out of the $150 he needed for the bail. We eat lunch and then leave town. Brian let me drive his car some of the way because I love fast cars and he owed me since I gave him all that money. On an empty part of the highway I put the pedal to the metal and sped at 120 miles per hour. That definitely reached the top five on the scariest things I’ve ever done list. We reached Saint Simons around 5 p.m. and searched around for places to check out. We get to a beach that looked just like spring break; hundreds of college students on the beach partying their asses off. Eventually we left and ate at some really good restaurants with cute waitresses and good food. Around 9 p.m. we met up with some of Brian’s fraternity brothers and went to an abandoned house that a kid name Lee owned. After I pay for our brew, we start to drink. But, as soon as we start drinking a cop pulled into the driveway, freaking everyone out, with no one in the house being twenty one. The kid whose parents owned the house goes outside to confront the cops telling them it’s his house. The cops didn’t bother use and leave. The girl to guy ratio was one to three so I quickly figured that there was no chance of a hookup that night. I decide to get drunk and play fun drinking games with my friends that I had made along with Brian and his girlfriend. Andy, Brian, Lee, and I wanted to get food at Waffle House around 12:30 a.m. While we were there, I pissed off Brian by asking him about his girl troubles and he decides to backhand his ice water onto this guy at the next table. The man quickly stands up and yells at us telling us that he is now pissed and is going to make us pay. Since we were all drunk, we tell him we are sorry, pay, and leave the restaurant as soon as possible. When we get back to the house, we all drink some more and shoot the shit before we doze off to bed.
Saturday
I wake up to my alarm screaming at 10 a.m. After searching for Brian and Hillary, we decide to depart for Jacksonville for the game. Since the water was nonexistent at the house, Brian, Hillary, and I take a shower in the park near the place where we went on Thursday night when we arrived. It was so awkward because the families that were at the park saw us applying shampoo and body wash in broad daylight. Soon after, we dress in our appropriate game attire, get gas, and head on to Florida. It only took an hour to reach Florida, but took 30 minutes to find a parking spot down town. Of course I have to pay twenty dollars because Brian ran out of money. I am now out of cash and have to use my debit card. We look for our friends for an hour and walk probably ten miles. Eventually we get to the Hampton Inn and watch the game wihle ordering food. I spend another fifteen dollars on food and a drink. On top of all of this, UGA lost to Florida 49-17. We are really upset at this point, so we leave and get gas so we can go back to Saint Simons where all the UGA fans are staying. Around 7:15 p.m. we met up with Brian’s friend Ben. Brian knows him because they used to play golf together. He is insane and is very cocky. Once again, I pay for alcohol and we go back to Ben’s place and start drinking and trying to forget about the awful day. I got a call from my pledge brother, Reagan, telling me I had missed the best weekend ever in Statesboro with all the hot girls in costumes. This gets me jealous and irritated with my decision to leave to go on this stupid road trip. We don’t find any party but make one ourselves that Saturday night. We were at Ben’s house without his parents which didn’t bother me. After only having a beer or two I pass out while watching Sports Center.
Sunday
At approximately 11am I awake from my slumber. The house is a ranch, one floor. No one else is up so I go take a pee with the door open and no worries. I assure myself everything is okay and I have a five hour drive ahead of me. While peeing, a woman in her 40’s barges in the front door and looks at me in the bathroom when I’m doing my business; we make direct eye contact. She storms off into the kitchen and tries to find her son, Ben. I run back into the room where Brian and I slept and we freak out. I attempt to climb out the window, but I don’t want to kill myself. We call Hillary three times and she doesn’t answer. Finally she calls us back in the bathroom in the master bedroom and she has been walked in on by bens mom. Ben walks in our room and says he talked to his mom and tells us it’s okay he took the blame and we just need to leave. @ 11:30 we go to McDonalds and grab lunch. I pay for myself and Hillary pays for Brian. I am obviously pissed about all that has happened up to this point. We turn the Garmin off because Hillary is bragging about how much she knows the route back to Valdosta. Hung over, we drive for an hour then stop again to get gas…Hillary pays and I am now driving. Nothing else would get my mind off this crazy weekend than driving fast. @ 1pm so I attempt to make this drive to Valdosta swift and quick. In Hoboken county I drive by a cop going 68mph in a 45mph zone. The cope is driving in brake. He turns his lights on and pulls me over. I have never been pulled over, not once. He drops the ticket from 68mph to 56 mph so I only go 11mph and pay a $170 speeding ticket. I then drive off and want to pull over as soon as I can. About 15 min later I pull over and let Hillary drive. Also, I call my dad. He threatened to beat me and stop paying for my school, car, food, insurance, and everything we he does for me. I tell him im sorry, hang up, and we are now on our marry way back to Valdosta. @3pm music blasting, I scream out of Valdosta. After about an hour or so of driving I find myself on a two way road with a 55mph speed limit. I really just want to get back to the Boro. I call my friends and talk for that hour of driving knowing I have 2 more hours to go. At 4pm my urge to get to Statesboro so badly catches up with me when I pass a slow moving car. I put the pedal to the metal and zoom by the car. I see a line of cars in the opposing land and know that if I don’t hurry up and get past the car I will be stuck behind this oaf. So I speed up my acceleration to 80mph enabling me to get around the slowpoke. After successfully maneuvering I maintain my speed at 80 mph. I see another cop. This time it is a state trooper. He pulls the same move as the previous cop does; only he was going much faster. Smoke is created from the drifting of his tires and the pavement. He hauls ass behind me to pull me over. I have successfully shat my pants and almost thrown up. He says I was going 79 in a 55. My eyes widen and I lose my breath. He asks me a bunch of questions and I answer them confidently and untruthfully/ I was scared. I was scared. He wanted to know why I was speeding and I told him it was because I had to get to my chapter for my fraternity…which was somewhat true but mostly false. I then show him my ticket from 3 hours ago and he shakes his head. I tell him im generously sorry and it will never happen again. He goes back to his car to do paper work. I start sweating and hoping and praying to god. A million questions run through my head and I try to calm down, but cant. I await my verdict. He brings back a piece of paper similar to the one I had gotten earlier on that day. I look at it while he explains what is on it. I only got a warning!!! A freaking warning going 24 over…holy crap God has answered by prayers. He is mighty and He is just! He tells me to slow it down and I listen this time. Driving back 50 the rest of the way made my mind linger about how lucky I was an how much of a bittersweet moment that had been. At 5pm my mom calls asking if I had made it back to Statesboro yet. I proclaim was still driving. Eventually I tell her I was pulled over twice. I didn’t talk for four or five minutes. Then I tell her that I only got a warning but that didn’t matter to her. After being verbally abused, I tell her I’m sorry and that I love her. She hangs up after telling me to be careful and not speed for the zillionth time. At 6:30pm I make it back home tired, exhausted, flabbergasted, and hungry. Looking back on eh weekend I tell myself to never make the mistakes I did again, starting with me paying for Brian the entire length of the trip. @9pm I lie in my bed and reminisce about how my birthday weekend didn’t go as planned and how I was going to write about it someday. I admit that I have read the book I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max and always wanted to write about a crazy story in my life. This probably doesn’t compare to his stories but at least I had a trip worth my while.





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