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Welcome to Gainesville Day One: I arrived in Gainesville at approximately 10:32 AM. GVA is one of those homey little airports that require you board and depart right on the runway. Needless to say I was a little cranky from my redeye, but this is Gainesville and there's nothing that alcohol can't solve in this town. At least that's what they teach at the University. Nate's waiting for me at the gate and we're on our way. First stop is to pick up a slightly hung over Brody and then we're off to the Monkey for food & beverages. 11:15 AM and drinks are served. Knowing that your first drink is always the most important I make a statement & order up the bloody mary. After all it's as much of a meal as it is a drink. Sometime around 11:45 Lenny, Angel and Kiester made their way into the Monkey. From there shots were mentioned and pitchers are bought. A Newcastle and Miller Lite (damn you Brody) later we’re all on are way to the Dog. This is where they claim I got surly. I deny everything. The opening round is Jager shots and in an effort to encourage group bonding it’s possible that I verbally berated Johnny Angel until he took his, though I admit to nothing. From then on pitchers were bought; songs were put on the jukebox and conversation ranged from the state of Florida football to why they took Tom Waits off the jukebox. I like to think I made an impression on the bar staff when what appeared to be a drunk sorority girl loudly dissed my lame attempt at humor. Needless to say that incident was recounted several times over the course of the weekend... Somewhere around 4 PM we bid adieu to our bartender headed out the door. It’s at this point that my story may differ from the others. I maintain my claim that the newspaper vending machine attacked me; whereas there are some false reports that I simply knocked it down out of spite. Five minutes later and we’d somehow ended up in the Swamp and I can only assume Brody is to blame for that. More shots are purchased, and at this point Johnny has literally run away from me. It’s sometime around here that I began making proclamations that’d I would be up till 4AM or I’d buy all the drinks tomorrow. Brilliant I know… Sometime before 5 a plan was made to head home, power nap and regroup. So it was off to Nate’s for an hour and a half of precious sleep. At around 6:30 I’m woken up and we're off again. In preparation for the long night out we venture over to Ale House for food. When the bill arrives it dawns on me that I’ve already lost my credit card, most likely at the Swamp. Knowing it’s simply an obstacle and not a wall we move on. From there it’s on to the Dugout so Nate & Brody can show me the cocktail waitress they like to ogle. A couple beers later and we’re making a drive-by of the Swamp so I can pick up the afore-mentioned credit card. Then it was off to downtown. First The Top for some much need hard liquor and a chance to mock the indie-rock scene and then it was on to Market Street for a lot more drinking, some dancing and of course the nightlife. At some point we made an ill-advised journey back to the dog before returning to Market Street to meet back up with Lenny & crew. This of course meant $5 pitchers of PBR and wandering about the dance floor in a drunken haze. We were kicked out at 2AM and stumbled back to the car only briefly being interrupted by a pack of sketchy older women. Brody’s dropped off and I dial up a pie from Hungry Howies before heading back to Nate’s couch. Not bad for a first night back. Now who says you can’t go ever go back home? Day 2 I woke up a little before noon and the cramp in my leg was apparently my body’s way of telling me that the couch was too small. The pounding headache simply meant that even though I was in a college town, I was no longer in college. Nate sickeningly enough had apparently been up for quite some time and was lounging on his balcony listening to the Clash. After a quick reminder to Nate that we had to be over to Kiester’s by 1PM for free parking I hopped in the shower and prayed my body could go one more day. Once Brody arrived we headed over to Kiester’s for another day of binge drinking, carousing and general shenanigans. Upon arriving at Kiester’s Mark greeted us with this telling comment, “I never thought you guys would make it…” Nice… Moments later cups were distributed and Mark gave a short description of each beer on tap. Before going any further perhaps I should explain that Mark lives in the house you always dreamt of when you were in college. A block from the stadium it sports a pool table, a sit down Galaga machine a kegerator (w/ two beers on tap) and of course a hot tub out back. It’s really no wonder the man hasn’t left Gainesville… A couple beers later and we headed off in search of food & money.
Walking down University and seeing everyone in their Gator attire
was really heartwarming. If I had a soul I probably would’ve
shed a tear. We ended up at Chipotle, which used to be Chesapeake
Bagel, which used to be Krystal, which was probably something else
before I got there. At this point I was warmed up and speaking freely.
The girl making my burrito, not at all amused by my humor. The girl
ringing me up, highly amused. I made a mental note to tone it down
and filed it in the round file with all of my other mental notes.
When we arrived back at Mark’s the party was in full swing. And by full swing I of course mean that all of the guys were standing in the front yard drinking beers and watching the sorority girls party across the street. I distributed the tix to all interested parties and quickly refilled. Not long after one of the girls from across the street wandered over to pet Mark’s dog. Now I’m not making this up, she was wearing a wife-beater with the words “drunk squad” on the front and some stupid saying on the back that she had mistakenly stenciled upside down. It was at this exact moment that remembered just how much I truly missed college. I exchanged pleasantries with her and a few moments after her departure I received several disparaging remarks about my character from our assembled crew. Brody had another couple tailgates to go to so around 4 it was decided we would venture out to the Salty Dog again and then Brody would move on to his other obligations leaving Nate & I to donate more money to the Dog. As we were about to walk out the door I was called out by Mark for not taking a "to go" cup. I kicked myself for another rookie mistake and quickly rectified the situation with a fresh beer. Back at the Dog it was time for another round of shots and of course more beer. John Paul was serving drinks, Fugazi was on the jukebox, and I was trying to get Nate to hit on the shot girl. All in all, a good time was had by all. Now at some point Brody left and to be honest I couldn’t tell you when. All I know is Nate & I kept drinking and our good bartender John Paul almost had me convinced I could do the 30 beers from different countries in 30 days before I left town. Which by the way was in exactly fifteen hours. He said he’d credit me for the beers I’d had yesterday(I’d knocked out about 7 countries) and what I’d drunk so far today. I believe it worked out that I’d needed to drink about eighteen more. I’m really not sure which is worse, the fact that he kept telling me he believed I could do it, or the fact that I actually thought it possible. Nate of course was no help. I believe his words were “go for it.” Somehow reason won out and I decided to leave it for another day. John Paul bought us a pitcher and I in turn bought us all shots of tequila. He gave Nate & I doubles for no charge and I’m still not sure if I should’ve thanked him for that. At about quarter to Seven we stumbled out. Nate went off to meet Brody and I headed back to Kiester’s to meet up with the rest of the gang. Once there I was issued a large flask of Beam for concealment and we began our slow march up to the stadium. Once I’d gotten the contraband pass the typically lax security I got a couple cokes and headed to the seats. Everyone was in and within minutes I was sipping on Beam & Coke. 7:00PM Kick off. Now once again this is where the reports differ. I claim I was an attentive and supportive fan. Others have used the words belligerent, obnoxious, and surly. Sure taken out of context statements like “Break his fucking legs and put him in a body bag!!!” might sound inappropriate, but I insist I was well-behaved. First Quarter: Things are moving slowly. The ‘Cocks score first and I can’t help but wonder if we could actually lose homecoming. I’m angry. I look back at Lenny and he seems a bit worried, though I’m not sure if it’s about me or the game. Second Quarter: Suddenly Zook is brilliant and we’ve scored 21 unanswered points. Someone hesitantly hands me another drink. Third Quarter: Two more scores and I’m babbling incoherently. Mark just keeps smiling as I convey my excitement to anyone who’ll listen. I’m suddenly frightened when I think we’ve run out of bourbon. Fourth Quarter: Zook’s running up the score and I love it. At this point my voice is hoarse and I’m forced to take someone’s drink in an effort to soothe my throat. After the alma mater we exit the stadium with “It’s Great to Be a Florida Gator” reverberating through the tunnels. I find Nate waiting back at Kiester’s when we get back. He’s without Brody so I questioned him as to his whereabouts. A few seconds later my phone rang and all questions were answered when a very inebriated Brody started shouting on the other end. Somehow he separated from Nate and ended up downtown. He of course insisted that we meet him downtown since he had met up with some of the hottest girls he’d ever met in his life. After holding the phone away from me for a few minutes I simply hung up. Post-game festivities were held at Mark’s house, which consisted of us drinking in the front lawn and watching the frat party across the street, while hoping the sorority party would start back up. Hours later Brody arrived courtesy of some new friends he made downtown. With him and just as drunk was one of his co-workers who happened to be A) Married B) have braces and C) all over him. This led to hours of amusement for the rest of us. With a 7AM flight I had of course made the intelligent decision to go straight through the night. That meant continuous drinking on my part with my sole responsibility being to stop Brody every time he tried to start a fight across the street and even then I could usually get Nate to go bring him back. I lost all track of time till about 4:30 when we finally left Kiester’s and headed where else but the Waffle House. One plate of pork chops & eggs with hash browns covered with cheese and chunked with ham later and I was ready to die. We dropped off Brody and then headed back to Nate’s so I could pack up and go. We arrived at GVA around 6:15 AM and I was already beginning to hate
life. My body seemed a little unhappy with me and had to use my luggage
to support myself while I waited in line. Needless to say my layover
in Memphis was somewhat less than pleasant.
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