This one’s from the vault. My friend Bill turned 21 a few years ago. It was probably the spring of ’04 if I had to put a number on it. For some reason we decided to go low key and just get a few people together and hit a bar. I guess it was mostly because Bill was already well on his way to full blown alcoholism at this point and the fact that he was 21 didn’t change much except to add new venues for his inebriation.

It was the standard fare for a 21st, we went to the bar, rounds of shots were ordered, beers were chugged and good times were had. Our core group consisted of myself, Bill, Bill’s girlfriend, a slutty girl that Bill would have been banging had it not been for his girlfriend, and my roommate Jim although we did not live together yet at that time. There were some other stragglers at various bars along the way and some dudes the slutty girl attempted to extract free drinks out of. (She ended up becoming a stripper and I’m pretty sure is probably now dead).

At our final bar of the evening, Bill was pretty much unconscious. Props to him for not hurling. The bar closed and it was time for the five of us to make our way back to the apartment building that Bill and I lived in. It was clear that Bill was not up for this journey which was only about five blocks. Jim and I had to help him. I really am surprised that we did not get stopped by the police while doing this as the most direct route back to the building was straight across the campus of our university.

Once back at the building, the real fun began. Our building was a complete shit pile and frequently the elevator would stop working. This was one such evening. Bill is not a small dude and during the journey from the bar, his condition got progressively worse. We dropped him on the floor in front of the stairs and told him he was going to have to start walking. His apartment was on the sixth floor and there was no way we were carrying his fat ass up that far. Bill didn’t move, he just sat on the floor making moaning and grunting sounds. Not wanting to abandon our friend, Jim and I decided that the best course of action was to start kicking him in the ass and yelling at him until he started to crawl up the stairs. This worked. It was slow, and lots of people came out of their apartments to see what was going on, but eventually we got him up to his floor.

Once on the sixth floor, Jim and I decided that since he had gone up six flights of stairs, Jim was capable of propelling himself down the hall to his apartment, so we employed the same motivational technique that we used on the stairs and got him moving. At this point we had a pretty big crowd assembled as there were some parties in the building that had shifted to the hallway to witness our spectacle. Finally Jim and I got Bill into his apartment and left him on the floor next to his bed.

Jim and I went down to my apartment to recover, drink more, and laugh at Bill’s expense for a while. After about an hour, we decided we should go up and check on him. We went up to his place but he wasn’t in his room. The door to his bathroom was closed and there was no response when I knocked. I tried to open the door but it was stuck, after some considerable effort, I was able to get the door open enough to stick my head in. Bill was passed out on against the door and there was a big wet spot on his crotch. Jim and I could not stop laughing. We invited some of the neighbors in to take a look and then left him there for the remainder of the evening.

The next day was even better. Bill came down to my apartment looking particularly hung over. He walked in and commented, “Man, I wish you guys had turned on my air conditioner, when I woke up this morning my pants were all wet from sweating in them all night”. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed that hard. He was not pleased when I informed him of the source of the humidity in his pants.

-Ice Man

Now that I find myself living through my mid-twenties I’ve come to realize certain things that come with getting a little older: the good looking physique I had when I was 17 probably isn’t coming back, hair is starting to grow in places that I always hoped it wouldn’t, and the idea of getting married and having children is becoming an inevitable reality.

As for the physique and funky hair growth, well I don’t think there’s all that much I can do about that. As far as being a husband and a father, now that’s something I think I can be pretty good at. In respects to being a husband, I think I have lived through enough trial and error relationships that I can figure that out, but a father, well that’s something I’ve only began to think about.

Now as a father, it’s going to be my job to help encourage my children and allow them to participate in activities that facilitate their growth. Maybe they’ll be really good at math, want to join a basketball team, or even be into boy scouts. That’s all fine with me, but the one thing my child will never be allowed to do is take karate lessons. Have you ever met anyone cool who took karate lessons? Now I know we all wanted to take karate lessons after seeing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Secret of the Ooze, but none of us made it passed the third week before quitting. We retired our white belts just as soon as we put them on. Then there was that one guy who participated in karate all the way until he was 18. Just admit it, that guy never had much going for him.

When I was in High School, there was this kid; we’ll call him Karate Kid. What Karate Kid lacked in stature, he made up for in ego. This was the kind of kid who still was hazed in his senior year of high school by guys younger than him. It was so bad that I even think teachers at our school were fairly annoyed by his presence. Personally, I tried my best to not hang around Karate Kid. I always tried to be nice to everyone, but for some reason I just couldn’t force myself to look past how much I couldn’t stand this guy. His normal comebacks always had something to do with how he was a black belt and he was doing us all a favor by not kicking our butts. Now I’m not a fighter by any means, but I was always knew I could take Karate Kid if the situation ever arose.

That day came in gym class my senior year of high school when Karate Kid was spouting off at the mouth about something during gym class. I then took it upon myself to put Karate Kid back in his place with a snide remark. This upset Karate Kid. He flashed his normal “black belt” credentials and got in my face. Normally I would just back down and avoid confrontation, but on this particular day I had, had enough of his unwarranted arrogance and accepted Karate Kid’s challenge.

Now this fight was over before it began. Karate Kid came at me and in a flash. I threw him to the ground and put him into submission. His karate moves were useless. It was not my intent to hurt Karate Kid, but just to teach him a lesson. What I ended up doing was embarrass him. I held him on the ground and emasculated him like a much older brother would do to his littler brother. At one point, I think I even held him down and hung a big loogie over his face only to suck it up right before it fell on him. He squirmed like a fourth grader getting his lunch money taken. Once I let him up he didn’t fight back; he knew that he lost.

Who knows, maybe I was the arrogant one that day. Word is, after that day, Karate Kid had a new outlook on life and really turned the corner. I hear he’s a really likeable guy nowadays. Maybe I did him a favor, but at least I know my kids will never venture down the same road that Karate Kid did.

-Costanza