scandalous roadtrip aka its about to get thuggish in here

so let me spare you the boring details and skip right to game day, perhaps better known as "the biggest fiasco to ever occur". so we start tailgaiting at about 1030 am, which is like 2.5 hours later than we planned to start, but still like 10 hours before game time. we are parked behind some dump of a frat house and there is literally NO ONE else around. we seem to be the only heavyweights in knoxville. skipping ahead, by like 1230 we have decided that this place is dead anyway, and so we have moved locations, now in front of the frat house where there is like 8 people tailgating. skipping ahead again. billy takes a picture with that mangy piece of shit smokey, jamie is like making the rounds talking to a bunch of men in orange, and eveyone else is proceeding to get obliterated. shotgunning beers is never a good idea (and i am proud to say that i was the only one strong enough to resist the peer pressure, and thus the only one who did not shotgun a beer. call me what you will, i would prefer not to throw up in the stadium). by like 5pm, still 3 hours left to kickoff, everyone is fucking ripped. derosa has spent time macking on some girl in purple (which is like 6 billion steps up from that piss ass orange they wear at that place) . dave can no longer be understood due to the thickness of his ever increasing accent. i am ready to go home. jason keep asking if we really need to go to the game. coffield is getting out of control and tyler keeps disappearing to locations unknown. so by the time we start heading for the game we are all pretty much shitfaced. jamie has now changed into his red georgia shirt which is causing all kinds messes. so off we go. we do not make it even 100 yards before we are in the midst of a controversy. heres how it went down.

so we are walking to the stadium, the ten of us, and jamie in his red shirt making an ass of himself. he turns to me and i punch him in the chest because hes wearing a georgia shirt and we are at tennessee. im totally dicking around with him. he whirls back around at me pretending hes gonna fuck me up, still just fucking around, and i say, "dude it wasnt me, it was that guy", and point to some random dude. this is meant to be funny due to the fact that i punched jamie in the chest and thus he totally saw me do it. but this guy apparently doesnt get the joke and starts in on what we dont know at the time will become his fucking mantra. "ive served overseas," which is meaningless to me and makes absolutely no sense in the context of anything that is happening. but anyhow, trying to appear to be social i take the nugget that hes given us about being a marine, and billy joins in, and we tell old pal that tyler is in the navy. this apparently does not impress him as he calls tyler and his fellow marines pussies and calls us pussies and rambles on along. well billy will not stand for this abrupt end to the conversation and attempts to engage this fellow in a dialogue about the tradition and passion surrounding the annual army-navy rivalry game. this oh so sociable chap thinks all of this is hogwash and tells us so in not so many words, by again calling us all pussies and fags and reiterating that he has "served overseas." this is apparently a great distinction from his common man. we should all hope one day to "serve overseas." anyhow, at this point billy gives up as old duder is getting more and more worked up and convinced that we are his "veit-cong"or whatever well armed advesary he faced, and so derosa steps forth to attempt to calm this guy down. it looks for a moment as though derosa has diffused the situation, however looks can be decieving. apparently, old shitbag was not laughing with derosa in a jovial manner as i had assumed, but instead was laughing at derosa and the rest of us in a manner that seemed to suggest that we could not understand him at all because we had not "served overseas" and were in fact causing him great stress and trauma by making him relive his experience at said location and to make things right we were either to swing at him so he could beat us senseless or go home and fuck each other. the latter suggestion was at this point given much more thought at length as he, while walking just ahead of us, now with a gaggle of men he picked up just at the point where it looked like he might get beat down by the 10 of us, enlightened his fellow travellers with tales of what we did in our spare time; i assume "we" were at this point me, coffield, and derosa, since the others seemed to have fallen back a bit. not one to allow others to have any misconcetions when i could just as well educate them of the truth, when asked rhetorically "i wonder which one of them is the bitch and which one is the butch," insisted that I good sir was the bitch and that i was on the recieving end every evening whenever coffield wanted to be the giver. this seemed not to pacify the gentleman, but rather to incite him further, and as we proceeded to the stadium, he became more vocal in his insistence that he had "served overseas" and that we were in fact extremely homosexual. and then for some reason he turned back and seemed to single out derosa and insist that derosa should swing at him so he would have justification to beat derosas ass. derosa meanwhile says that he isnt really in a fighting mood, what with it being sunday and all, but that if the distinguished marine would like to have the honor of throwing the first in a series of blows, then he (derosa) would certainly return the favor. at this point our new friend became adamant that we were disrespecting him and that if anyone should be respected it is he, after all he had "served overseas." perhaps i forgot to mention that right before his verbal assault on derosa he had called us "fucking democrats," to which i of course responded, "yes, we are all big kerry supporters. i love the guy. i hear hes been overseas." this did not have the desired effect of pacifying the man in the orange hat either, and instead incensed him. so as the guy is screaming at derosa and as it is very rapidly looking like we will all be spending the night in jail after a royal rumble, old pals frind comes up to me and asks what the problem is. i tell him, "well your boy there wont shut the fuck up," to which he responds, "thats not my boy. he may be in my fraternity, but he aint my boy." i insist that he is more his than mine at this point, to which he conceeds. he insists that "his boy" is just really drunk. we have been drinking for roughly 10 hours at this point so i tell this mediator that we too are a bit tipsy and to simply remove his breathren from our quadrant as rapidly as possible to avoid the forseeable dispute. he quickly ushers his party away. tyler however, does not see the negotiation or the amicable end of the affair, so he grabs derosa very firmly by the collar and grabs me in a similar manner and yells at us to "stop" because "i am not going to fight this guy tonight," which to be fair tyler, was the whole point of the entire discussion, us simply trying to assure our fellow football fan that we had no intentions of causing him bodily harm. unfortunately, knoxvilles finest were arriving on the scene just in time to see tyler yell and grab derosa and myself, and singled out tyler and derosa for a little chat. i kept walking knowing that to stop would be foolish unless specifically ordered by the boys in blue to do so. jamie meanwhile has gone a bit ahead and is antagonising the crowd by yelling "go vols" in his red georgia shirt. derosa and tyler are ordered to stand with their backs to the brick wall while our heroic officers converse with them. i have since been informed that there was indeed a "good cop" and a "bad cop". as derosa is being lectured by the 5-0 his lady in purple walks right by. i am unaware of whether she noticed derosa in particular (they seemed to have quite a good vibe while tailgaiting and talking, but who's to know really), but honestly, who doesnt take notice of drunk rascals being lectured by the po-po at a football game. finally derosa and tyler are forced to relinquish their tickets and evacuate the premises. we are now down to eight men. we head for our gate to enter neyland stadium. we are seperated. billy and big papa boyd are nowhere to be found when we enter the stadium. we get to the gate. coffield becomes concerned because he does not have his ticket. we go in anyway and attempt to call billy, who had all of the tickets to begin with, to come give coffield his and let him in. coffield is the drunkest of us all. we cannot contact billy, so several of us decide to go find our seats and hope they boyds are thereand then come and retrieve coffield. we find boyd in the stands. he insists that coffield has his ticket. after several minutes on the phone he says he is going to go find coffield and tell him he has his ticket and bring him back to us. we never see the biller again. down to six people at this point. the game begins. roughly hafway through the first quarter jason and dave get up to go to the bathroom. they say they will be right back. we never see them again. down to four. jamie and i leave with three minutes to go in the half. on the way back to the car i stop to puke. i feel better. we are lost though. somehow we find our way back, rediscovering some of our party on the way. billy, coffield, tyler, and derosa are all still missing though. after a tight squeeze out of the parking lot we finally get back to the hotel. i am going to puke again, i can tell. however, i am a man of discipline and know that i can at least make it to my room on the eighth floor of the hotel. i finally get to the elevator. i am close to collapsing and letting vomit just spray where it will. 8 floors to go. on floor 2 the elevator stops. this is no good. a fmaily gets on from the pool. i attempt to stand upright. its rough. the elevator stops on floor 4 to let the family off. TAKE THE FUCKING STAIRS!!! i am very close to regurgitation. i almost follow them off at floor four and use the trash can right outside the elevator. i figure this is bad policy in front of 3 little kids. floor 8 here i come. finally i reach floor 8. i can just make it to the room probably before spewing. i put my key in the lock; please god let it work the first time. i see the little green light. i push it open. the bar lock is on. why in gods name would they lock the fucking bar lock! it comes up. i turn and vomit in the hallway. a lot. i then fight my way vertical and proceed to bang on the door forever. finally derosa stumbles to the door and opens it after some trouble. apparently he too is suprised that that fucking bar lock is on. i pass out soon afterward. a while later tyler comes into the room and jumps on top of me and attempts to hump me. i fall asleep again. i wake up this morning to sounds of someone puking loudly in the bathroom. it is coffield. he says later, "i dont know what happened last night, but i dont really remember going to the game, and i have this unused ticket in my pocket."

it is learned later that coffield wandered alone for a while totally lost. he knows he was lost in a parking deck somewhere riding up and down on the elevator but never finding the exit. derosa and tyler went to a bar and took shots of yager until derosa had to leave to go search random parking decks for coffield. he hars from coffield a little while later when he (derosa) is in a parking deck. coffield says he is now back at the hotel. derosa is told that he is 4 miles from the hotel and so makes a mad dash through knoxville in an attempt to get back before sunrise. tyler meanwhile has left the bar and headed to the tallest building he sees thinking that this must be the hotel. unfortunately the tall building he aimed for is in the opposite direction from the hotel. he too gets lost and is soon accosted by a bum who aks for some spare change. tyelr says, "dude, ill give you 20 bucks if you can tell me how to get to the holiday inn." the bum obliges, as does tyler. all parties leave happy. billy is not seen again that night, but shows up in one piece in the morning, so no one asks too many questions.

so there you have it. an insiders account of the scandalous happenings of the road trip to knoxville. next years "thuggish roadtrip" will hopefully go smoother, but one never knows.