Wednesday night was $1 pint night at the U-bar. So I walked downtown, hit the ATM, and called my boozer friends–Janden and Kellie, the Chico Boozer All-Stars.

“What’s up Janden? Come down to the U-bar and hang out and play pool on the ‘L’ shaped table and do shots with me.”

“Can we get fucked up?”

I laughed. “Sure!”

“I’m picking Kellie up, we’ll be down in a bit.”

I walked down the stairs to the basement of the old brick building where the U-bar was located. It was 90 degrees outside, but once I got downstairs it was nice and cool. I made my way to the bar and took a seat towards the end.

“Hi, can I get 3 pints of Coors Light please?”

The bartendress looked at me funny. “Who are the other two beers for?” I sensed that she wanted to check some ID’s.

“Oh, all three are for me. Observe.”

I slammed the first pint in three gulps, sighed a hearty sigh, and placed the ice cold empty pint on the counter. That was refreshing! The second beer took me a minute or so. Then I settled in with my third pint and waited for the Chico Boozer All-Stars.

My cell phone rings and it’s The Silver Fox. I knew he wasn’t coming up. I bet he’s drunk.

“WHAT’S UP DUDE! I’m sitting in my backyard drinking beer! I’m drunk! I wish I was up in Chico with you! I’ve been depressed all day. I need a trip. I’m coming up next week for sure! I can’t take it anymore, dude. I’m close. I’m close to snappin’!”

The All-Stars show up and we do some shots of Jager. ;alksfasdjf;alskdfja There was a time when Jager was my shot of choice, but now I can’t hardly stomach it. It wasn’t even that cold. It hurt. Janden is out of cash so he goes to the ATM. He comes back and orders us another round.

“Hey dude, did you know tonight is $1 pint night?”

“Yep! That’s why I took out fifty bucks!”

We play a few rounds of pool on the ‘L’ shaped table. I talk to a girl I know for a bit. Janden picks up a girl. Kellie’s friends show up. We all hang out and socialize and play pool. Kellie sneaks out without saying goodbye–she has school in the morning.

Many rounds of shots and beers later I am definitely drunk. I’m leaning up against the bar and trying to get the bartender’s attention. Janden has two girls with him. He makes his way over to me, and all four of us do some silly mixed shot. The girls drag us out of U-bar and we go to Riff Raff.

Inside the new bar Janden and I go straight to the bartender.

“You know what dude? I think I’ve had enough to drink.”

Janden puts his head down on the bar counter top. I order two tall glasses of ice water. Janden reaches out, and promptly knocks both glasses over, spilling ice cold water and ice cubes all over his shorts. Janden is wiping the ice cubes off his lap. I think we’re dangerously close to being kicked out. I suggest we go outside and smoke.

I get into an argument with the bouncer over why I hated the movie “Troy”. Janden sees the girl he was working on for a couple hours–the one that dragged us out of U-bar. She’s sitting in some guy’s lap, kissing and whispering. I feel that Janden is angry and ready to confront her, and I’d like to avoid making a scene, so I suggest that it’s time to go.

It’s only midnight. When I get home my neighbors are partying in our parking lot. They have one of those portable steel campfire thingies. Everybody is sitting in lawn chairs and passing around a bottle of the Captain, while drinking Coronas out of their ice chest. It’s not exactly camp fire weather, but it’s nice. They ask me to stay for a bit. I do.

Then I blacked out. See what the Captain does to you? I woke up this morning to the sounds of my neighbor cutting plywood with his SkilSaw. I’m still wearing all my clothes from last night. It’s 7am.

I jump out of bed and look for my shoes. Whew! Yeah baby! My head is pounding, and I’m giggling. I’m quite pleased with myself for not losing my shoes. I shut all the windows, crank up the AC, pound a gallon of water, and sleep until noon.

As I sit down to write this I am drunk. Very, very drunk. I’m having trouble typing. I have to go back and correct my spelling and grammar quite often. I do the best I can.

I went out tonight very late. Kellie called me at quarter to midnight.

“We’re at Joe’s.”

“See you in ten minutes.”

I poppped in my contact lenses and threw some goop in my hair.

As I approached Joe’s I noticed the line was around the corner. The wait would be at least 20 minutes. What was I to do?

I looked around the corner to the back entrance. Yes, the door was open. OK. This will take some skill.

I walked up to the back door like I owned the place. I waltzed in, no hesitation, not making eye contact with the bouncer. I sauntered past him, not saying a word. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his mouth open, like he wanted to say something. Like, “Hey you can’t come…” And then his facial expression changed, as if to say “ahhh fuck it”.

It’s all about confidence.

So I’m in. I go straight to the bar and order a shot of the Captain and a bottle of the Silver Bullet. I see Kellie, and I make my way over to her and her friends.

“This is Paloma.”

“Nice to meet you. Can I call you Persimmon?”

Persimmon? Whatever. For some reason it’s easier for me to remember a name if I give them a nickname.

We hung out for a bit. Kellie introduced me to her other friends, all chickas. I thought for a moment, “I wish Dahi was around to help me out. I can’t possibly entertain all four gals.”

More shots and more bottles of beer. Next thing I know Persimmon has me by the hand, dragging me out of Joe’s. We head to the Bear, but the line’s too long. Kellie’s gotta “go” real bad. We stop at Stormy’s, a Grateful Dead type hippie bar. While Kellie’s in the restroom, Persimmon and I do a shot of rum. Next stop, University Bar.

“Hey Tom, how about another shot?”

Yes, let’s.

Persimmon and I do a double-shot of the Captain (of course). Kellie doesn’t want hers, so I do two double shots of rum. Things are starting to get hazy. The bar’s closing so we go back to Persimmon’s place.

We hang out for a bit, smoking, drinking, playing dominoes and being silly. Persimmon is hammered and so am I. She goes to pass out, so Kellie and I go back to Kellie’s pad.

We talk about the usual stuff–politics and Hayward and life and shit. She soon gets tired and I start the long walk home. It’s 4 am.

As I walk I think how nice it is to be young and carefree. I look way down Ivy Street and see the cops with their red and yellow flashing lights in the middle of the street. I pass the Delta Chi corner and see two young people making out on the porch. I keep walking and look up at the sky, and see its millions of clear white bright stars sparkling on, and off. I look to the horizon and see that it’s starting to get a little light.

I’m going to miss this town.

Every time I go out I meet somebody new, and they’re always fun and cool. I think of all the friends I have, and how much I’m going to miss them.

Why am I leaving again?

Sometimes I just don’t know.

I’m sitting in my apartment, trying to read, thinking about all the shit I’ve got to do before graduation. I’m only 1 book, 4 papers, 1 presentation, and 1 exam away. AND I’ve only got 7 days to do it. I made a schedule, I got organized, I planned each day and what I had to do.

Today was Friday, my last day of lecture. As I sat in class I could not pay attention. I kept thinking to myself, “This is the last time I’ll ever do this.” I looked to my two favorite surfer girls from San Diego and thought, “I’ll never see them again.” I couldn’t pay attention. I fought back tears. I tried to put on a happy face and keep it together.

At the end of the lecture I wore my best smile and said goodbye to my friends. I tried not to think about things. I tried to keep it together–I didn’t want to cry. I made my way to the bookstore and picked up my cap and gown. I should have been happy, excited, carefree–and yet I was not.

I’ve felt so sad today. So sad that this is all coming to an end. Sad that I won’t see my new friends. Sad that I’ll never talk to them again. Sad that the comfort of being a college student is no more. I’m sad for all these things.

Needless to say I felt like partying; not doing my work. I have a million things to do and a short time to do them. And yet, I could not get to work. Janden called early, while I was at the gym. He called again on my way home, and twice during dinner. Kellie called too. And again, and again. My friends were going out drinking tonight, and I should have stayed home. I could not, and I did not.

Finally, at 11pm, Kellie called–this is the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

“We’re going down to Duffy’s to meet Janden. You coming?”

Shit. Fucking shit. I’ve got work to do. I can’t go out tonight. If I go out I won’t get anything done, I’ll be hung over tomorrow, and I won’t get anything done tomorrow either. I need to stay home.

“Not tonight, maybe tomorrow. I’ve got too much shit to do, Kellie.” I explained.

“OK, well, see you at Duffy’s!” she replied.

Dammit. She knows me too well. I sat there a moment, thinking. Shouldn’t I stay home? Don’t I have work to do?

I got in the shower. I’m not going out, I told myself. I’m just taking a nice refreshing shower. I got out, I put on some clean clothes, and I grabbed my essentials–wallet, keys, cell phone, knife. I started walking towards the door, damnit.

I walked out the door.

Fucking shit. I can’t go out tonight, I told myself. I made a bee-line for Duffy’s. “What are you doing, Tom?” I asked myself. 15 minutes later I was at Duffy’s. I bought a beer and looked for my friends.

Janden was playing pool with a super-cool gal I’ve seen before, but never met. Kellie and Sierra were sitting at a table, drinking beer, and chatting. I made my way over to them and poked Kellie in the back.

“Whassap dude?!?!??!”

“TOM!!!!!”

Awww yeah. It’s good to be the king.

The beer and rum flowed like wine, as usual. I entertained Kellie and Sierra with my best material, pausing for shots of motherfucking rum and bottles of beer. When the bar closed we all went back to my messy apartment for clam dip.

Kellie and Sierra soon left. Janden and his ladyfriend, Lainey, the coolest chick on Earth, hung out for a bit. We talked about life, and shit, and had a good time. We listened to Coltrane and Sinatra, Joan Jett and A-Ha. Janden and I argued over the rum, and then they left.

And here I am. Drunk. A little dizzy. I know I’ll be hung over tomorrow, and I know I won’t get to all the shit I planned on doing. I should have stayed home tonight and worked on my shiz. But you know what?

Fuck it. I’m glad I went out. You’re only young once, folks. In the game of life, there are no do-overs. I choose to live.