[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though most don’t involve a large group of potential sorority sisters) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]
I love it when universities appreciate the modern college student: we wake up early, we work all day, we study hard, and we sleep late. Oh, and we like to party. Maybe not exactly like they do on Jersey Shore, but we party nonetheless.
So once a year, these universities plan a day – just one whole day a year – where they encourage even the most studious to stumble into class a little tipsy and the most punctual to skip their classes altogether. They do so by providing good food, fun games, inflatable obstacle courses and performances by headlining artists like Sean Kingston, Sara Bareilles, B.o.B, and Drake. It’s all for free and always begins on a Friday around noon. Which means the proper hydration process begins in the morning, if not the previous Thursday night.
This particular year, I woke up late. I had to make up for lost time, so it was a good thing my friends and I soaked pineapple slices in rum and vodka for the past 24 hours. (My mother always taught me to plan ahead….) We went to my boyfriend’s place just off-campus to pre-party before the big party. At least that was the plan. Unfortunately, those pineapples were a bit stronger than anyone thought and the next thing we all knew it was hours later, we were still sitting in my boyfriend’s living room, and we’d missed every single show.
But that was okay (at least to my drunk ass); we had a California Pizza Kitchen barbecue pizza in the freezer, and after an entire day of quenching my thirst, I was hungry.
I unwrapped that frozen deliciousness, popped it into the oven, and sat down on the couch as I waited for it to bake.
And then we all fell asleep.
Fast forward to the next morning when my boyfriend and I woke up in a fit of coughing to a room FULL of smoke. (Wow, way to not change your batteries in those smoke detectors, boyfriend). I started screaming and running wildly around the living room. Unable to see anything, I tripped over the coffee table and fell to the ground.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, kept his wits about him and proceeded to the kitchen. There he discovered the remnants of a burnt pizza inside the once-white oven that was now charred black. THANK GOD the oven blew the fuse of his entire apartment instead of setting it on fire altogether. Though you wouldn’t know it; that place smelled burnt and crispy for another month.
Next time, we’ll be ordering pizza.
[You think that’s bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]