You’re glad you picked your winter coat. It’s not the most stylish, you’ve never bothered to clip the years worth of ski club lift tickets that dangle awkwardly from the left pocket zipper, but it’s practical. You know what?! Fuck ski club, you deserved a black diamond sticker. If you went fast enough you could ride rails! You should probably stop ruminating over this, at least you got the blue square…right? Right! Still, when is the last time you went skiing you wonder? Come to think of it, when’s the last time you did anything considered extreme? For a second it seems weird to consider skiing an extreme sport anymore, but your pretty sure it’s in the X-Games and as far as you know that’s the only criteria for extremeness. A text from an unknown number lights up your phone.
“HEYYYY, YO! I can’t believe you came back. I saw you on VINCENT LANE and it totally brought me back. How you been?! Some of the old crew is meeting DK house at 7, you should come by!” Cool — you’re remembered!
You approach DK with a stubborn pride in your choice to wear the winter coat even as you see sleeveless groups of much younger, much sexier students entering the house before you. They’ve got to be drunk to bear walking through this weather. Speaking of drunk, being back in the DK house is making you thirsty. You spot a crowd of sweaty bodies gathered around a cooler in a room to your left. Perfect, you can step in and grab a drink. On second thought, maybe you should take off your jacket and find a place to hide it first. This thing is too warm to wear in here.
Homecoming of Horrors 
2 thoughts on “Frat House Pub Crawl”