On the dance floor (accent 4)

It's been a while since I told a story here on "noaccentyet," and I feel it's time to rectify that slight to any of you who are grimly gnawing at the bones of what I've left here lately while you wait for meatier fare. I can see you now, salivating at the prospect of juicy tidbits of my life dropping from my plate of offerings, sniffing the air for what I might be cooking up.....

To sate your voracious appetite for all things Tiff, I offer this lusciously-seasoned (and true!) story - enjoy, and perhaps there will be a smidge of something for dessert.

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It's Friday afternoon and I'm going to a frat party tonight. I know, I know, I'm not normally a frat-party-goer, but my roommate has invited me because she's a "little sister" of the frat and I'm between boyfriends and she says there are lots of cute guys there that I'd get along with.

So, whatever. If I don't go I'll be bored to tears, sitting here pathetically in the suite with only the concrete-block walls for company and whatever I can pull in on the tiny teevee in my room, and that's way too sad to contemplate, so off I plan to go.

First, the prep. I must take a nap. This is crucial, because we only plan to go out at about 11, and I need my beauty rest. This, in turn, means that I have to be home from Happy Hour by about 7 so I can pass out by 7:15 so I can wake up by 9 so I can shower and spend too much time trying to get my hair to spike just right and apply makeup and choose just the right outfit that says I'm friendly and hip but not cheap and I don't screw on the first date. It's harder than it seems, and takes the full 2 hours I've allotted.

Its time to go! We walk across campus to the off-campus frat house, and find the keg as first order of business. It's been about 3 hours since I've had any beer, so I'm pretty sobered up and ready for round 2.

And 3, and 6, and maybe 10.

My roommate finds her boyfriend; unfortunately, she finds him sucking face with another chick, and she gets in a huge fight with him and dumps me in the middle of this big ol' house full of people I don't know. I'm not sure if she's coming back or if I should just leave, but if I leave then who will she walk home with and on whose shoulder will she cry out her aggravation and sadness once the fight is over? It's happened before, I know how the cycle goes.

So, I stay. For just a little while, and maybe another beer, because it's there, and free, and nobody says "boo" about some chick they don't know pulling another beer out of their keg.

After a while I start to drunkenly wander around the packed house, listening to the twelfth playing of "Magic Carpet Ride" (the frat's theme song) at setting 11 on the speakers and watching the cute girls climb up onto the guys' shoulders and pounding the ceiling in time to the music. I do not know any guy on whose shoulders I can climb, and would feel stupid doing so anyhow, so continue my lurching around the house, looking for my friend to tell her I'm going home. Hell, it's nearly 1 in the morning and my hair is getting all beer-y and I'm hot and want to go back to sleep, but feel like I MUST tell her I'm going, even though she ditched me without so much as a moment's notice. I'm not going to be the rude one!

What's that, frat boy? Well, what the heck- sure, I'll have another beer. Thanks for asking! Wow, sure is hot in here....and spinny. I think I need to sit down for a minute or two. Maybe just close my eyes for a sec......

Now wait just a minute! How did I get HERE? Who's this guy I'm dancing with? And why am I kissing him? I've never MET him in my life! Where the heck AM I? What time is it? Hey, you know, he looks a lot like Rick Ocasek from the Cars (see photo)......OK that's fine. He says his name is Dave, and he likes me and would like to see me tomorrow.....OK, that's fine. He says I'm a really good dancer.......OK, that's fine too. Wow, it's hot in here, I think I need to go home.....the walls are moving and I'm not.....

OK Dave, thanks for walking me home. No, you can't come in to my room....yes, I KNOW she's still at the house and nobody else is in my room, but you can't come in. No, we just met. You know Dave, I actually feel like I might heave at any moment, so it's probably not a good idea for you to come in. What's that? You say I did that on the way here? Shoot, sorry about that. I guess I'd better not kiss you goodnight then. Oh, my phone number? You still want it? OK, here you go, it's...uh.....what is it? I'm sorry, I can't remember. You say you'll be here tomorrow night at around 8 and we'll go to Spanky's? OK, that's fine. See you then. Goodnight.

I manage to get the key into the front door lock with Dave's help and stagger into my suite, banging against the doors and creating a hell of a racket. I don't' even take off my clothes or makeup before making my way toward bed, but from some reason the DOOR to my room is locked and I can't get in! Godammit, freaking sonofabee! What the hell is wrong?

Oh, hi there suitemate. You say you heard me yelling out here? You say my roommate is in the room with her boyfriend and they're "making up"? They've been making up for a couple of HOURS now?

Oh.....OK....that's fine. I'll just sit right here on the couch in the middle of the suite and wait until they're done. Fine....and....dandy.........zzzzzzzzzzzz.

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I went out with Dave about 3 times before realizing that looking like Ric Ocasek didn't make up for the fact that he wasn't a very good kisser, and that he was a freshman.

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Sadly, this was not the last time I experienced a walking blackout.......there was, for example, that time on Reddish Knob that I thought I was a native american, and felt that the fire was calling me to dance. Yessir, there's a story there.