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| Dumb face tellin' some dumb stories ya'll |
(some
of the names have been changed to protect the guilty, some of them haven’t been
changed at all…because…well, it’s just funnier that way)
These are by no means the BEST things or stories that EVER happened under the roof of the Billabong, they are just some stories that were appropriate enough for print that I was around for.
The
title itself sounds like the most interesting “Friends” episode never shown and I’m going to
attempt to do it justice on paper even though it’s much better told aloud (mainly because of my insanely accurate depiction of the Irish accents in this story).
Our first story of the 'Bong collection revolves around Gary “best bar man in all the land” Dolan who gave me two stories that I will never forget as long as I live and will tell them to my children in hopes that someone can at least attempt to match his awesomeness. Or drunken hilarity. This...is one of those tales.
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| The Legend |
In
Room #5 there were 6 people rooming together including myself.
It was Gary, myself, Joe, Rachel, Biman, & Phil. I had just moved in so I had a bunk above Rachel, the
Irish girl in the room. Gary used to
work 5 nights a week so when he got his chance to shine aka get really drunk, that’s
exactly what he did and by God, he did it well.
He
came home late one night and when you’re living in a hostel you don’t pay a lot
of attention on how someone comes in the room.
It’s late and you’re rooming with 5 other people, there’s going to be
noise, you just deal with it.
I
managed to fall asleep quite soundly that evening. I’m not sure what time it was, but I was
awoken by a loud consistent dripping noise.
Something in comparison with a cow pissing on a flat rock or a bucket
with a constant stream of liquid from above, I knew exactly what was happening.
I
roll over and all I can see is the top of Gary’s golden locks. “Gary, what the f*** are you doing?”, I asked him.
“Darby-dar-see-dar-be-shebe-darby”,
replied Gary. (or at least that’s my
written Irish impression of the nonsense he was attempting to say)
“Gary…are
you…peeing on Rachel!?”, I asked more adamantly. I’ll
never forget the look on his face when he finally realized someone was talking to him, he looked up at me…
His face was a cross between a cat with a light getting shined in its eyes and Golum
from the “Lord of the Rings”. It was as if "confusion" and "shame" made a baby…that baby’s name was Gary Dolan.
He
may have even hissed at me in true cat creature form, all I know is that he sprinted off to the bathroom
quicker than I’ve ever seen him move in my entire time knowing him. I assume that he went in the bathroom to
finish up because about 2 minutes later, he casually walked back to his bed,
put the covers up and went back to sleep, his head hit the pillow and he was snoozing...we could hear him. It was as if nothing had happened.
By
this point, the whole room is awake except for Rachel and Gary. We are all in the beginning stages of "what the f*** was that?". No one is actually sure if what we just heard/saw actually happened. So we began to recount our perspectives.
The roommates and I have a “house meeting”
of what our next move should be after we all determine that "Yes", Gary just peed on Rachel. None of
us want to actually be the one to wake up Rachel and tell her that she just got
peed on. We’re still too confused as to
how she was able to sleep through that in the first place. It was ON HER...and the pee itself was loud enough to wake up the other 4 people in the room....
Biman
yells over at Gary, “Gary, what the hell man, you know you just peed on Rachel?”. “Aww Biman f***-off, darby-dar-see…(intelligible
drunken Irish grammar)”, Gary slurs back.
The roommates and I did some detection around her bed before we woke her up and upon further review figured out that he must have peed on the comforter but only at her feet…which then proceeded to drip into her shoes and on the floor. It was pretty healthy piss, put it that way.
We
eventually come to a decision that no matter what, we can’t just let this poor
girl continue sleeping in a bed of urine.
So me, being the martyr that I sometimes am, wakes Rachel up and tells her
what happened.
"Rach, I don't know how to tell you this, but....Gary just got up and peed all over you", I told her...gently.
Her
reaction was probably the most baffling of the whole evening. She didn’t even care! Not only did she NOT CARE, she felt BAD for
Gary!
“Aww
poor Gary, he’s going to feel so bad in the morning. He’s must be sooo drunk, he’s going to be soooo embarrassed.”,
Rachel tells us. Now that's friendship ladies and gentlemen!
We
all can’t figure out why she’s being so cool about the situation. If someone pees on you, that’s a fight….I don’t
care who it is. Friend's don't let friends pee on other friends...or...friends don't let other friends pee on them...there's a strict rule about this I'm sure!
“Oh,
the lads get pissed and do it all the time back home (in Ireland)”, she explains.
What
do you mean “all the time”? So this is "normal" to you? No way. That’s not cool, I don't think that getting peed on should ever be "normal" protocol.
The
kicker of this story is, that all she did was remove the blanket that he peed
on…and then went back to sleep…in that bed.
They
never spoke of it again. They never even
mentioned it to one another after that, the only communication was a text that
Rachel sent Gary the next day….”Change my sheets”.
