We asked for your craziest Welcome Week stories, and you answered in droves. Today’s tale comes from us from YOLO OH, NO. In exchange for his salacious story, he’ll win a t-shirt or tank of his choice from Brash Brothers. Not too shabby.
Think you’ve got a better Welcome Week memory? Send it our way, and we’ll see if it’s prize-worthy. We will be publishing the cream of the crop over the next couple weeks to get you even more amped up for another school year.
Going into my senior year, I had just recently broken up with my long-distance girlfriend of four years and was excited mostly to get back on the prowl for horny, drunk college chicks. What better time to find these than welcome weekend at any fairly large university? My Bros and I were pretty bashed-up from Thursday and Friday night and were thinking on just taking the night off. This was a little disappointing to me considering I had partied my ass off, did not get laid, and was on the verge of throwing in the towel. That is, until one of our sophomore Bros in our frat calls us up inviting us to a “Highlighter Party”.
As a 22-year-old senior you kind of start to drift away from the whole “theme parties” scene and start hitting up the bar scene. Fortunately, the factors of the night kicked into gear and I thought to myself the following things: 1. It’s the last night of welcome weekend 2. I still haven’t gotten laid and 3………. I still haven’t gotten laid.The next thing I know, I'm pulling out a plain white T I don’t give a sh*t about and throwing down shots of Evan Williams trying to cure my hangover with the ole drunken healing factor. We walk to the house where the party is at and the whole way there, our buddy that invited us keeps talking about is the amount of freshman babes that are going to be flocking to this party. One thing I have learned during my four years at college is that there is nothing freshman chicks love more than stupid themed parties (highlighter, stop light, golf pros and tennis hoes ect.) and a keg they never even end up drinking out of because they brought their water bottle half-filled with some Smirnoff Strawberry and Sierra Mist.
At this point I’m thinking to myself that this just may be the perfect place to end my dry spell.As she said this, she wrote her number on my shirt and mysteriously walked away.
We get to the party and it is everything I imagined it to be. Overly packed basement, a DJ that thinks he’s legit, and people packed around the beer pong table -- not because they plan on playing, but because they don’t want to look awkward just standing around watching chicks dance. I see two girls next to me whispering and immediately one of the girls grabs her friend and pushes her into me. From there the conversation went exactly as follows… Girl: Hey….Me:Whats up?.... Girl: You're hot, don’t leave without saying bye.
About an hour or so later, I decide to decipher the sloppy number on my shirt and shoot her a text letting her know I am about to leave. Immediately I get a text back telling me to walk her home and to meet her in the front yard. Sure enough, as I walk out she is standing there alone waiting for her prince charming to escort her back to her dorm. At this point all I can think about is how pumped I am to accomplish my welcome week goal. As I expected, she is a freshman living in the dorms with three other roommates, but I could care less that she insisted on going back to her place.We walk back and the whole way she keeps going on and on about how she just broke up with her high school boyfriend and wants to just be free for a while. I sh*t you not, she even says to me “I mean, you only live once right? YOLO”.
We get to her dorm, she signs me in as a guest, and we proceed into her room where we climb up into her top bunk and start going at it. I immediately reach for a condom, but realize I was too drunk to remember to grab one as we were pre-gaming. At this point what do I care, YOLO right?We start banging under the covers switching between me on top and her on top, but for some reason every time we switched, she would grab my cock and start rubbing it vigorously. I didn't think anything of it. The only thing that bothered me were the framed pictures of her as a child with her father sitting up on the headboard of her bunk directly in my line of sight while im pounding this chick missionary.
I wake up at 7 a.m. the next morning and immediately plan my escape stealth mode.As I am climbing down, I notice a girl sleeping under us. I then notice what appears to be drops of blood on the steps and a few drops on the edge of the bottom bunk's bed. She opens her eyes and stares right at me, notices the blood, and looks back at me with a WTF look on her face. I just give her a little wave and tell her “shhhhhhhhh”. I take the classic walk of shame back to my apartment with white T-shirt covered in highlighter and giant hickies on my neck.
Once I get home, I start changing and notice my boxers are completely covered with dry blood! Not to mention there is still dried blood all over my body. At this point, I’m thinking to myself this chick was on her period, knew it, and just didn’t give a f*ck! Talk about a YOLO chick.A month goes by and I totally forget about the girl and the incident until I receive a text from her stating the following “Hey, this is really embarrassing but I need to let you know that recently I was tested positive for
Chlamydia. It is important that you get tested and let anyone else you have slept with know. Sorry :/”
To this day I still wear that white T-shirt with faded highlighter marks on it once in a while and all I can say is…well….F*ck YOLO…