Two blackout weekends in a row… who knew November would be so exciting. This past weekend was the Harvard-Yale game, or for most Harvard/Yale kids, the one time a year that they actually “go crazy” (read: drink like normal college kids and then get sent to UHS). Harvard-Yale for grads usually means reuniting with old friends, re-lighting old flames, crashing undergrad tailgates, getting shitfaced and urinating in public.
This year the game was at Yale, which means 8am party bus to New Haven. After a night at the Standard Biergarten for the pre-party, I woke up Saturday morning pumped and simultaneously feeling like death. I wake up roommate M, who is also in poor shape, and we both pick up S to go head to the bus. M had brought his flask of Svedka, I had brought my usual HY goods of 2 bottles of champagne and a bottle of Jim Beam, and S had brought an entire fucking cooler. Talk about over-generosity. Everyone was told to just bring booze/food for themselves, and S brings 100 Bud Lights, a bottle of champagne, an entire handle of Corner Creek, and a dozen sandwiches and wraps. Good thing I hadn’t had breakfast because I just ate 2 wraps from S and 1 breakfast sandwich from F, and I was ready for my booze.
I’m not sure when I stopped feeling like death and the booze started to kick in, but I think it was when I was about half way into my second bottle of champagne and F started to play “we found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hoooopeless plaaaaace” and “I will never be the same without youuuu, withouuuuttttt youuuuuu.” Whenever I hear techno music I can’t help but start jumping around like I’m on a shitload of drugs (I wasn’t but probably acting like it) and jumping on everyone in sight, which is what I did in the bus and consequently fell into at least half a dozen people and gave myself half a dozen bruises. All worth it.
When we got to Yale, we immediately invaded the undergrad finals clubs tailgates, stole all their booze and made them serve us their burgers and hot dogs. The food was great. I don’t remember the rest, but apparently it was quite the eventful HY this year. For example:
- Our friend P got arrested by New Haven popo even before he got to the tailgate. For being blackout? Well, kinda. Because he had thrown a pile of leaves in a cop’s face. P, you make me proud. I’m not sure why he got arrested though to be honest — must have been bad luck because I similarly threw a bunch of balloons in a cop’s face my senior year at Harvard but nothing happened. Except that he tattle-taled on my house masters and dean and tried to get me to not graduate from Harvard, but I did with zero issues. As black people (and I) say, Fuck the PO-lice!
- Someone got run over by a U-Haul and died or something, apparently some 30-year-old person who had no affiliation with Harvard or Yale. My first reaction was, why was a 30-year-old at an undergrad tailgate… but then I remembered I am not that far from that. Anyway, I guess that’s what people are starting to do to non-HYers who are crashing HY tailgates — talk about elitism. You can also bet your ass U-Hauls will be banned from HY tailgates for the rest of our lives (as if banning kegs wasn’t bad enough).
Anyway, the tailgate ended way too quickly, and it was time to return to our party bus before I knew it. The return ride was even more amped up with techno and dancing, and I felt like I had seriously just been to a 3-hour mobile Avicii concert. The rest of the night went downhill from there — M/F/I ordered a shitload of Chinese, I passed out on F’s couch, I was kicked out of F’s apartment, then passed out on my own couch. I think it was only like 10pm at this point because I woke up at 6am, and I was wide awake and couldn’t fall back asleep. Naturally I had to find something or someone to do, which is what I did 15 minutes later. Nothing like a 6:15am booty call.
It took a full 24 hours to recover from the weekend, and my arms are still sore as hell from swinging from the party bus like a monkey. Go Crimson.
Poverexic in NYC 