The Travelling Beruit Roadshow, Part II (Part A)

So Angel and I decide to go up to Bowdoin College and see what's going on. He promises me there's a really hot latin chick that he knows that we can party with. He hints that she might put out. I'm convinced. I head over to Angel's after work and we start drinking beer. I'm actually taking it easy because of the hour and a half drive ahead of us, so I call it quits at three beers and switch to water. We leave sometime after 8 o'clock and head to Vacationland, aka The Deep South of the Far North, aka Maine.
We leave from Angel's house and the weather is decent. We stop to gas up and he buys a bottle of Mad Dog. It's going to be one of those nights, I can already feel it. We head north. Angel thinks that singing along loudly to Natasha Beddingfield's "Unwritten" is pretty much the coolest thing two straight guys can do alone in a car with each other, and since no one else is around, I'm inclined to go along with it. As hits of the 90's karaoke continues north, it starts to rain. We get past Portland, and it starts to pour. We're almost to Brunswick and it's raining fucking sideways.
Angel: Man, I hope these cats know how to party, because this rain is going to suck.
Me: True that, I guess we'll see.
We park at a typical college parking lot, although I am absolutely shocked to find parking. There is of course the obligatory "all caught parking without sticker will be shot on sight" agitprop. What can they do, withhold my credits? Ha! The good news is that the rain has let up. Sort of. I have a sinking feeling that we've only driven through the storm, and that it's coming up behind us now.
Angel calls up Marisa, she's going to meet us outside the dorm. I'm actually carrying a backpack full of beer cans. I can't believe I'm 25 years old and still pulling this off. I don't ever want to grow old. Ever.
Now, lets Tarantino this back in time for just a minute. When this trip was proposed, I looked at the situation of drinking with college girls who have never met me, only one of whom knows Angel, and none of whom I ever expect to see again. My first instinct was that of any red blooded American man...
Me: Angel...we have to think up some good lies about who we are!
Angel: Well, Marisa knows me...
Me: Yeah, but she doesn't know me, help me out here. I need this.
Angel: Alright
We worked this out before we even left. I decided that Law School would easily explain why I was there and let me exploit my age advantage. Girls don't like boys, they like cars and money. We decide that I went to UNH and then BC Law. I know enough about BC to pretend I went there, and UNH wasn't even a lie, or at least only a partial lie.
So we meet up with Marisa and (this is the hot latin chick) I immediately notice two things. First thing, she is hot, second thing, she ain't latin. At least not how I was envisioning things. Not that I care, but I felt like I was misled. We head upstairs, and oh yes, there are only two things in this dorm room. Women and booze. I decide I'm never leaving this place.
Introductions are made, and more importantly, I shotgun two beers in quick succession, plus some champagne and some straight vodka. This way the conversation gets looser.
I'm still somewhat miffed over the rather un-latin Marisa. Reddish blond hair, blue eyes, like I said, beautiful, but I was expecting someone straight out of those Telemundo soap operas. But what the fuck did I expect in Maine? I decide to get to the bottom of this.
Me: So, Marisa, you're from Argentina?
Mar: Yeah, well, my parents are...
Me: So was your grandfather a Nazi war criminal or something? I mean, I'm not judging anyone, I'm just interested...(she laughs...oh thank god, that could've gone very wrong)...
Angel saves me from myself and I start talking to this really tall chick and her friend, who I soon learn has narcolepsy.
Me: You really have narcolepsy?
Narc: Yeah, I have to take this medication and...
I cut her off: So do you get to get out of doing a bunch of stuff or are you just stuck with it?
Narc: Well, one time I fell asleep during an exam and woke up and the room was empty!
Me: That's totally sweet.
They start asking me about New Orleans because they know that Angel went to school there. I start telling stories before I remember that A. I've never been to New Orleans, but B. I haven't told anyone where I'm from yet. I need to call an audible right now. I turn to Angel...
Me: Tulane Law, check it to Tulane Law. He seamlessly includes me in a story about carousing in NOLA, that involved me getting arrested and spending the night in jail. I only hear this part of it, but jump right in...
Angel: Yeah, so LFODD here gets bagged and I have to go bail his ass out of jail at 5 am...
Me: Yeah, because I didn't hide behind a fucking bush while the rest of us were dealing with the cops....
Angel: (Interrupts) well you were the one stupid enough to piss right under a street lamp...
Me: ok, but that's beside the point...what was the point again?
Anyway, it's time to go party. Me, Angel, Marisa, Tall Chick, Narcolepsy and two other chicks head out, stocked up with booze in various soft drink bottles. This is so 1999...and I love every minute of it. We get outside and it is now raining sideways here. We lack coats. We consider calling drunkrides, I mean SafeRides, but none of us knows the number. We walk over to this on campus apartment deal, and there is a HUGE FUCKING PARTY IN THE RAIN! Live band, kegs, at least 500 people, all outside partying in the pouring rain. This is totally awesome. I scam numbers from Tall Chick and Narcolepsy in case we get separated.
After god only knows how long drinking, dancing with soaking wet drunk girls (awesome by the way) partying in the rain and pissing in the woods (yeah, this is a real party, fuck you city folk) I stumble across Angel again.
Me: We need to play some Beruit.
To Be Continued tomorrow, I promise.
-LFODD