**Times listed are rough estimates
4:00pm: The president of another one of my fraternity’s chapters, who for anonymity we’ll refer to as Brian, and I check into the hotel where the national conference is being held. We scope out the lobby to gauge how many of the brothers from other chapters in attendance look normal, and which ones look like they’re from lame chapters. We see a lot of cargo shorts – prospects aren’t looking good.
4:02pm: I get a glimpse of the former National Sweetheart of my fraternity. I believe her name is Rachel. Solid rack.
4:15pm: Brian and I are fully moved into our room for the weekend. Our room is stocked with two handles of whiskey and two thirty-racks of keystone. We contemplate skipping orientation to get a head start on pregaming dinner, only to realize that we have to be at every “business session” in order to receive our travel stipend. This travel stipend will be my only motivation for attending these meetings.
4:20pm: We’re both fully registered and in the orientation meeting. They’re covering all of the information that they had previously sent us via email, with particular emphasis on the strict “No Underage Drinking” policy. This is useless. I need a drink.
5:00pm: We get back to the room and each pour ourselves a whiskey on the rocks. I forgot how bad and cheap Evan Williams is. Oh well.
5:20pm: I pour myself another whiskey.
5:40pm: I pour myself another whiskey.
6:00pm: Buzzing. We both switch to beer. I trick Brian into doing a power hour. It’s my first power hour in forty-nine days.
6:10pm: God, I’ve missed doing power hours.
7:00pm: We finish up the first power hour. The dinner reception for the night has started, but neither of us wants to show up on time. We decide to start another power hour so we can show up fashionably late. This one is ‘80s themed. Ah, the ‘80s.
8:00pm: I check my phone to find an email from my chapter advisor, stressing the importance of representing our chapter in a positive manner this weekend. We both figure we’re drunk enough and head over to the bar for the dinner reception.
8:15pm: I’m at dinner and way more fucked up than I thought I was. Drinking on an empty stomach was a bad choice.
8:20pm: This food is the only thing keeping me from completely passing out/vomiting all over myself. I’ve really let myself go; tolerance wise, that is.
8:25pm: I’ve made a huge mistake.
8:30pm: I wonder if Rachel is here. Man, what a rack. I wish I could take rest my head on those pillows instead of this hard dinner table.
9:00pm: According to Brian, it was around this time that I passed out in my bed. I am pussy, here me roar!
**Times listed are rough estimates.
5:00am: I wake up. Why the fuck am I awake? Why is Canadian Football the only thing playing on ESPN right now? Fuck Canada. I’d pay to hit the Biebs in the face right now. I go back to sleep.
7:30am: I wake up again and pull myself together. Thankfully, and miraculously, I don’t have a hangover.
8:00am: Brian and I arrive at business session number one. I head over to my assigned table. The only person sitting there is a newly initiated brother from some other chapter. This kid is such a scrub.
9:00am: My hangover hits. The National President of my fraternity is conducting a ritual opening. I can’t remember any of the lines. I hope I don’t get challenged.
10:00am: After sitting still in agony for an hour, I decide to excuse myself to pull the trigger. It’s the only way I can think to put a temporary end to my suffering.
10:30-10:45am: They adjourn the first business meeting and send us off to the lunch reception.
11:30am: At the lunch reception I meet the president of another one of my province’s chapters, who for anonymity we’ll refer to as Gerry. Gerry still looks drunk from the night before. What a champ.
6:00pm: After being released from another grueling business meeting, Brian and I start pregaming. Gerry hits us up to come upstairs to some old alumni pregame.
6:30pm: After a few drinks, Brian and I head upstairs to the pregame. We enter the room to find Brian’s chapter advisor, Gerry, and a ton of old fraternity alums. And I mean OLD, like, sixty plus years. It’s at this time that I remember the “No Underage Drinking” policy and consider taking a break from drinking while in the presence of all these old-timers. Just to be sure, I ask Brian’s chapter advisor for his opinion on whether or not I should be drinking. He calls me a pussy and tells me to go get a drink from the bar.
6:35pm: First mixed drink is consumed. Brian’s chapter advisor has begun introducing me to people as the president of my chapter. I tell him that I actually don’t hold a position and he responds with, “shut up, I’m on a roll here.” I guess I’m the pseudo-president. This is probably as close to the real thing as I’ll ever get. I better cherish this.
6:45pm: Second mixed drink is consumed. Some seventy-year-old alumnus is showing everyone his medical marijuana license.
7:00pm: Third mixed drink is consumed. Brian, Gerry, and I are about ready to head over to the dinner reception. Brian’s chapter advisor tells us to come up to his room to keep drinking.
7:02pm: Approaching the advisor’s room. The hallway in the hotel smells of ganja. It would appear that the seventy-year-old toking up.
7:05pm: Brian’s advisor pulls out a fifth of bourbon and pours each of us a drink. The dinner reception starts in five minutes but we figure we can show up late.
8:45pm: Still pregaming in the advisor’s room. We get a call and learn that the dinner reception is over.
9:00pm: As we leave the room, Brian’s advisor hands me a couple airplane bottles “for the road.”
9:30pm: We go to the hotel bar. My chapter advisor is there and tells us to order a round of drinks on his tab. He gets up to leave and we order a second round of drinks on his tab, followed by a third. He doesn’t look happy with us when he gets back.
10:00pm: Brian, Gerry, and I go to some Asian place for dinner. Gerry orders the table a bottle of Saki. Saki is over-hyped.
10:30pm: Gerry decides to order a shot of patron. It costs him thirteen dollars. These restaurant owners are dicks.
11:00pm: We leave dinner and head out into the city to figure out our plans for the night. We eventually decide to go meet up with my pledge brother, who for anonymity we’ll refer to as Mike, further downtown at his place to meet up with him.
11:30pm: Some Asian kid approaches us as we’re looking for a cab and asks us if we’re in the same fraternity as him. He considers our response of nodding our heads as an invitation to hang out with us. This kid is wearing American-Flag-chubbies. He has try-hard written all over him.
11:35pm: The Asian kid actually tries to get into a cab with us. I’m not in the mood for this shit. When he asks if he can get in, I respond with a classic Patrick Bateman line, “not if you want to keep your spleen.” He seems to take it in stride. I’ve watched American Psycho one too many times.
12:00am: Brian, Gerry, and I arrive at Mike’s place where we drink for the next two hours.
2:00am: We hail down a cab and get a ride into the city.
2:15am: The cab drops us off and we head out to find a bar.
2:20am: We learn that bars downtown are open until 3:00a.m. but stop serving alcohol at 2:00a.m. Our plan is ruined. We start walking aimlessly around the city.
2:45am: We decide to stop to eat at a Silver Diner.
2:55am: Our waiter introduces himself to us. He’s Indian. I think his name is Fatimah. Or Papaya. Or, well, something like that. Let’s go with Papaya.
4:00am: We start walking around aimlessly again looking for a cab to bring us back to the hotel.
4:30am: We finally get a cab back to the hotel. The driver is Indian. Gerry asks him how much caffeine he usually needs to make it through driving this late. He tells us he doesn’t drink caffeine, but drinks liquor instead. I suddenly become aware that he’s been driving in the middle of the road for some time now. We all simultaneously fasten our seatbelts. All I want is to make it back alive so I can see Rachel’s tits again.
4:45am: We make it back to the hotel in one piece and head up to our room for some sleep.
5:00am: Business session number three commences in four and a half hours.
10:00am: Brian and I wake up after a solid five hours of sleep. We contemplate skipping the business session and going back to sleep. Then we remember that if we want our travel stipend, we have to go. This travel stipend better be a lot.
10:30am: After saying goodbye to Mike, Brian and I show up an hour late. We’re un-showered and in the clothes we wore out the night before. We reek of cigs and booze. Both of our advisors make fun of us. It appears that Gerry has slept in.
5:00pm: I’m back in the room and ready to pass out. I still can’t believe that after all of those bullshit meetings, my travel stipend only came out to ten dollars. Thanks, Obama.
7:00pm: I wake up, crack a beer, and hand one to Brian. The last dinner reception is in thirty minutes and we’ve only just now woken up. We put on our suits, finish the remainder of the beer in our fridge, and head downstairs to the reception.
9:30pm: There is no more wine at the dinner reception. Why is the wine gone? This is bullshit. Brian, Gerry, and I decide to leave.
9:40pm: We each pour ourselves a whiskey while we try to figure out how to spend our last night in the city.
10:00pm: My chapter advisor sends us an invite to a private reception hosted by the new National President.
10:10pm: We arrive at the reception. There’s an open bar. This is going to be good.
10:30pm: Rachel is here. My Lord, they’re huge.
10:31pm: I approach Rachel. She’s having a conversation with someone.
10:32pm: She’s still in mid-conversation.
10:33pm: She’s still talking.
10:34pm: Still talking.
10:35pm: We make eye contact. I’m not sure what I say, but I assume I ask for a picture. She wraps her arm around my waist. We take the picture. She smiles at me, gives my hand a light squeeze, and walks away. She totally wants the ‘D. Brian tells me to put my boner away.
1:30am: As Brian, Gerry, and I are leaving, Brian’s chapter advisor invites us upstairs for some drinks.
1:45am: We grab what’s left of our booze and head up to his room.
1:50am: Brian’s advisor pulls out a handle and some airplane bottles. We start drinking.
3:00am. Gerry bows out and heads to bed.
4:00am: I leave and go to bed. Brian’s advisor has just finished a fifth by himself and is un-phased. What a tank.
4:01am: As I’m walking down the hallway, I hear a group of girls drunkenly singing to Icona Pop’s “I Don’t Care (I Love It).” I wonder if Rachel is one of them. I decide against checking it out and head back to my room for bed. I changed, man.
6:00am Brian gets back to the room. The sun is up. His advisor kept him up drinking until 6:00am. Jesus.
We both woke up several hours later and made our check out time with just five minutes to spare. I checked my phone to discover that I had drunkenly texted at least six girls the night before, telling them to come over. Gerry had left earlier that morning. Brian and I parted ways, and my advisor gave me a lift to the airport. Overall, it was a great weekend and pretty much exactly how I imagined it would be.