Go to the link above and fast forward to 3:21. There will be a guy in a burnt orange shirt amongst a sea of red. That's me. I actually barely remember this moment, but with the help of writing a chronicle of events of Saturday, September 26, I can trace my steps back to how I ended up on TV and ended down 1 G (yes, that's $100o).
12:00 AM Pearl Bar, Houston, TX, USA
Friday had ended the way it began. Guzzling beer at an incredible rate. There's two hours until the bar closes. Midnight was somewhere between dancing to Salt N Peppa and seeing to gay guys making out at a bar (not that there's anything wrong with that). And it was 2 hours after dominating the trivia game at Dave and Busters (which led us to spend all 1400 tickets on 7 shot identical Dave and Busters shot glasses and a bag of candy (which I had to haggle to obtain)). 'Twas 4 hours after slamming a Lone Star Burger at Red Robin. And it was 10 hours after leaving the Brickhouse Tavern, which is where this long day truly began. Or did it begin months before these shennanigans actually occurred, when my cousin had decided to find a reason to road trip to Houston in search of building the 3rd greatest tail gate of all time at a non-BCS school. Wherever the origin actually is, it resulted in a ridiculous day-night double header that has become all but typical in the world of Texas Tom.
2:00 AM Washington Street, Houston, TX, USA
After a night of Miller Lite, Vegas Bombs, pissing, gay guys making out at the bar, "dancing", a burger, trivia, more Miller Lite, we all heard the dreaded words that make you feel like a kid getting told Christmas has been canceled. Last Call. We headed home. I don't remember shit about the ride home except that I'm pretty sure we were riding in S's 83 Caddy. I'm sure it also involved yelling racial slurs and cat calls out the window of this same car. There was a girl involved. She said something to me. A guy yelled something back at the car. People are laughing.
9:15 AM Couch
Confusion sets in. That split second of confusion when you wake up after a long night of boozing in which you don't really know where you are. Typically, a little guilt sets in as you play back the TiVo in your head from the night before. The guilt doesn't last long for some of us. We laugh, smile at the first person we see and say something to the affect of "things got a little out of hand last night." But this time, after the confusion, there was silence. No one home. It set in that the rest of the Boozehounds had headed out for an all day bachelor party including golf, football, (regular) club, and a strip club. I had to forgo this opportunity at mayhem due to my prior engagement. I had agreed, months before, to tailgate with my cousin, B, at the University of Houston vs. Texas Tech. B typically goes OVER THE TOP in everything he does, so of course I was game. The bachelor party wasn't quite enough of a reason to blow this game off. I figured the tailgate would be all out. I had to meet him at his hotel by 1.
11:15 AM Couch
I awake again. This time, with less confusion. I begin my day. Shower. H-E-B. Call a cab.
12:59 PM Sheraton Hotel, Houston, TX
I make it to the hotel by 1 and wait in the lobby with my neon orange sign and my burnt orange shirt and wait for the crew. Several members of this crew know me from fantasy football. The league is over the top, of course, as are several of the members. Those are the ones that were coming. I slip my Texas hat down over my eyes and wait. I may have fallen asleep. By 1:30, I hear some chatting in the lobby and look up. It's one of the league members. Several follow behing, along with my cousin. We're ready to go. I pick up my sign and my 18-pack of Miller and head to the car.
2:00 PM Parking Lot, University of Houston
Satellite dish, TV, 2 canopies, 3 parking spaces, brownies, dip, chairs, 3 coolers, blank neon orange sign, 1 bottle opener, washer boards, big crowd.
3:30 PM Tailgate
By now I've gained true form and begin catching passes across the street in the median. I had found a pissing post across the street behind some bushes. My day was set.
4:00 PM
A small, unattended child, no more than 4, darts across the street into oncoming traffic.
5:00 PM
I lose all concept of time, but the following events occur at some point:
we play washers
I see a baby holding an empty bottle of Corona
B shows me a stash of pre-made long island iced tea, crown royal, and possibly vodka
I stick to beer
2 of B's friends try to set me up with their friend. Good idea.
A friend of the family mentions he's been on the wagon for 7 months as B is pouring him a stout Crown and Coke
By standers casually mention "yall have a hell of a set up here"
Texas routs UTEP
I get scolded for running receiver routes through traffic into the median
I text the bachelor party goers to ask when they're headed to the strip club
I see wagon guy pouring a drink
I denounce my slap-wrist-bracelet-coozie
7:45 PM
We probably started heading to the game around this time
I pour a long island iced tea for the walk
I don't remember much of this
This is the recollection of B, in an e-mail Monday morning:
"As I reflect back, I realize it was just a run of the mill tailgate – an attendee of the party was later taken to the ER, a small child in the tailgate next to us was nearly ran over, another attendee who claimed he had “been on the wagon for 69 days straight” and abruptly fell off when he was drinking my Crown Royal, I called Dish Network customer support from UH to see if I could buy additional channels for 1 day and was asked “are you serious sir?”, I had to switch seats at the game with T because I kept hitting and staining the shirt of the Texas Tech back-up qb’s dad in front of me and somehow T and I ended up on the field and took a picture with complete strangers. You know, typical us Saturday night. "
8:15 pm
Game begins. The memory is extremely foggy, but I know this happened:
We lead cheers of "WHO'S HOUSE????" "COOG'S HOUSE!!!" throughout the walkways
We buy 2 margaritas each (you can drink in this stadium)
We bring them back to our seats (4 rows up, 15 yard line, Texas Tech fan section)
A claim that a cheerleader was "eye fucking" me
I wave at the cheerleader. No response.
This was a running theme throughout the game, from beginning to end
I buy 4 beers
I get harrassed by fans of both teams (mostly Tech). Called almost every name in the book. That was by far my favorite part.
had a discussion with a Houston fan at the margarita bar about how I respected his team and will be rooting for them tonight because they are in the same city as me
had the same discussion with a Tech fan - substitute city with "conference"
I got into an argument with the Tech fans two rows behind me. I referred him to last week's game after trying to tell him I was a Tech fan (even though I cheered for both team's throughout the game at one point or another)
Realized we never wrote anything on the Neon sign... we wanted to go with "LONE STAR XII FANTASY FOOTBALL: GOING GLOBAL." Turns out we would have got some face time.
B's shirt becomes completely stained with margarita (it looked like someone had a romance explosion on his shirt)... this happened fairly early in the game
Get told by the beer guy that we can't buy beer anymore
a baby is poking me on the back. each time, I turn around and try to amuse the baby. Parent's worst nightmare.
On any first down, the stadium plays the sound of a Cougar. After which, B and I would look at each other and begin pawing at each other (every time)
This last recollection occurred after B and I "got done" hanging out on the field. We tried to go back in to get his wife, but they would not let us. I told the lady she was pregnant. That didn't work, but they did send someone to go looking for her. This recollection was quoted from Kaylee.Random recollection from B:
Oh and throw in the stadium security guard going to K and saying, “Ma’am, are you K?. You husband will be waiting outside the stadium for you. We will not let he and his friend back in.”
One final recollection from B (I am the "friend"):
Maybe. Also, the discussion occurred in front of my father-law and a friend that literally took 195 pictures of the game with his digital camera.
Pretty sure me and the “friend” led the a large group of students in a chant on the way out of the stadium.
One couple had to leave in the first half because of the amount of tailgate fun consumed.
And I may have tried to instigate a fight with some tech fans before the game over something neither me or Tom knew what I was talking about.
And we saw Hakeem Olajowon.
11-something ish, still in stadium
Tech scores the go-ahead touchdown. My phone begins vibrating out of control. Several times. 8 text messages and a phone call, all of which had a common theme: "You're on TV. You're wearing a UT shirt. Hook 'em." and later... "did you storm the field."
Yes, Yes I did. B and I stormed the field. We were caught up in the moment. While down there, we high-fived everyone in sight, took pictures with people, got asked about my UT shirt, looked for Hakeem the dream and ran around yelling "who's house?" It was pretty enjoyable.
12-something ish
We leave the stadium. I take a few phone calls about the game and begin trying to figure out the status of the bachelor party. Are they still at the strip club? Yes.
1-ish
We get back to the hotel. B makes me a stiff whiskey drink for the road, gives me a jacket that doesn't fit him anymore and I call a cab. "Take me to Treasures."
I get a phone call telling me that the party is leaving the strip club while on my way. S agrees to stay. When I arrive, he is nearly asleep. I hand over my hat to the door people and go in. A bouncer comes up to me and puts his hand on me and says sir. I've had this feeling before. It's when you're too drunk to be somewhere, only you didn't realize it. You were in a different situation than everyone else here. I play it cool and act like I'm fine and ask him if it's alright if I put my new jacket where they put my hat. Like I've done it 1000 times. He lets me go through. I get in and sit down. Next thing I know I'm in VIP with a 24 yr old piece of trash named Andrea. Before I go any further, I may as well say that I don't get sexual favors for money. I never would and I never will. Trust me, if I didn't do it this night, I'll never do it.
3:30 ish. 30 songs later.
I get my bill from the waitress. I'm down a G. I've still got a hundy in my wallet I had planned to use but it's no use. I leave VIP. I check my phone. S had said it's time to go. I remember responding, actually, and check my outgoing messages. I had told him to go on without me. Great. I'm 20 minutes from home and a cab costs money. I go downstairs and see a hell of a sight. S is sitting on one of the chairs, eyes clothes. I go shake him. Doesn't wake up. Doesn't even consider it. I sit back down. My plan was to wait until four when the strippers get off work. I planned on staying at the hotel with the one I was with in VIP. I now recall already explaining to her that there was no way in hell that she was getting any more money out of me and that I didn't want sex or anything else. I just wanted a place to sleep. She said that was cool. I sit and wait. I see a stripper come up to S and shake him. No use lady. Several more strippers come up to me and try to steal more money from me. Good luck with that. It's almost time for them to go home and they're in overdrive. I could have cared less. Finally some dude comes up to S's chair and kicks it. He's staring at him. It's not a worker at the club, but some random guy. I essentially tell him to fuck off. S comes to. I tell him we're getting the hell out of here. We go outside and call a cab. S pays. I couldn't handle any more. (Somewhere along the lines I had exchanged numbers with the stripper and around this time, there is an incoming call from a woman named "Andrea". Nice. A GD stipper has my number.)
9:15 AM Couch
Confusion sets in. That split second of confusion when you wake up after a long night of boozing in which you don't really know where you are. Typically, a little guilt sets in as you play back the TiVo in your head from the night before. The guilt doesn't last long for some of us. We laugh, smile at the first person we see and say something to the affect of "things got a little out of hand last night."
