Halloween 2012

Halloween in Pullman, Washington is an extremely special time. This sentiment holds true for most WSU students, but for me personally, Halloween weekend party nights are some of the most memorable times I experienced between 2010 and 2014.

Late October 2010 was the first night I ever reached the point of being drunk. You read that correctly, it took a solid two and a half months of living in my dorm to get to the point where I imbibed enough to really understand what being drunk is like. This was still in the dark days where I could not only take shots, but even handle shots of tequila. Anyone that claims to know me now is keenly aware of the fact that I don't take shots of hard alcohol. With the rare exception of chilled jager or fireball, I absolutely will avoid the 1.5oz doses of the hard stuff.

However far and away the most memorable Halloween was in 2012. After being drunk for my first time freshman year, to going to an absolutely wild frat party as a sophomore, I was excited for the events that were to transpire at the end of this coming October. Having talked up the atmosphere of this holiday in Pullman, something like seven or eight people from Tri-Cities made the two and a half our drive to see what all the fuss was about.

The night starts off regularly enough. Despite having something like 18 people in our house ready to drink and have fun, we decide we need to move the show down to what we hear is a real rager, all the fucking way across town. Still, culture dictated it necessary to pre game rather significantly before braving the two or so mile walk to what better be one hell of a party. After what feels like an eternity of slamming whiskey cokes and pouring shots for everyone, we manage to group up and begin the journey.

At this point it's important to note I've changed some of the names of people in this story. Everything below did occur, but I know that if I were certain characters in this situation, I'd much rather not have my name tied to the story.

Multiple events happen at the same time throughout this and I'll try my best to make it clear when I'm switching between.

The most violent rain I'd ever experienced in Pullman was pouring down in full swing as we left our duplex. Our group is somewhere between 15 and 20 people, and not everyone is totally keen on going to the same place. About five minutes into our walk, a group of three people including Mallory decide to branch off and head to greek row to check out the frat parties. I don't blame them for not wanting to walk two miles in the pouring rain while in Halloween costumes which didn't exactly serve as severe weather clothing. We part ways and the rest of the group continues down the path that runs parallel to North Grand Avenue. This is where things start to get a little weird.

Enter Barry and James. Out of the 14 or so remaining in this group, these are the two I'm walking next to. Barry starts running off from the group and hiding in bushes, trying to jump out and surprise people. This isn't odd behavior for Barry, but after a few attempts I realize the guy is barely able to stand after jumping up. James deems this the appropriate time to share the fact that Barry pounded something like 8 drinks just before leaving. Due to the speed of his consumption, it didn't catch up to him until about 20 minutes later.

Keep in mind that at this point we're almost all under 21. It's very easy to navigate the city of Pullman whilst very drunk as a minor and not be apprehend by police. They know that you're probably drunk, but if you're walking coherently and not causing trouble, they generally have better things to focus on.

By now we're approaching Stadium Way, the other major road in Pullman which intersects with Grand. It is likely the busiest street in the city, and naturally this meant it was one of the most heavily patrolled by police. We arrive at the end of the path where you may turn left or right onto the sidewalk of the street. I see Ozzie, dressed as Batman, jumping around like crazy, full of excitement as we're a significant way closer to the party. Due to Barry's antics, Ozzie, James, myself, and Barry are all a solid length behind the rest of the group.

As the entire rest of the crowd had gone left here, we use our incredible common sense and begin to make the same change in direction. We make it 30 or so feet when I realize that Barry isn't with us. With some mixture of a gasp and sigh, I turn around to see his drunken ass sprinting across the busiest street in the city, not a crosswalk in sight. It's here I begin to worry.

Ozzie is vaguely aware of the situation, and makes the call that he isn't dealing with it right now. He takes off by himself to try to catch up with the jumble of people up ahead. James and I look at each other and realize that we either try to catch up to the drunken idiot our friend is at the moment, or pick him up from a holding cell in the morning following being charged for a minor in possession. Wordlessly, but shaking our heads, we turn right and walk swiftly to attempt to track Barry down while doing our best not to bring attention to ourselves.

We cross the street at a crosswalk, and I look at my phone to check the time. With a pang of fear I realize it is at 9% battery. We walk back down the street scanning for signs of the infant we were now in charge of. Mostly by luck, James gestures to what looks like a random lump next to a large green bush. I stare for a second and realize it's moving, only just barely and in an extremely graceless fashion. We get closer, and I'm able to make out that the scene unfolding in front of me was Barry trying to unlock his phone. By trying, I mean he was literally incapable of sliding his thumb across the screen of his iPhone to access the main functions of the device. We're in the parking lot of a McDonald's, and quickly running out of ideas. For some reason, James and I decide the best course of action is to move Barry inside the fast food establishment, and ascertain the best move after we dry off a bit.

Barry only gets worse as we grab a table in the far corner of the restaurant. We sit him down in a booth, but he's barely able to maintain the functions necessary to sit down. He starts yelling every few moments, and we're starting to get a lot of weird looks. I can tell we're moments from being asked to leave.

I retreat to the bathroom to try to pull myself together. I check my phone again to see it's now at 7%. But then another unpleasant realization sets in: even if my phone stays on long enough for us to call someone to come pick us up, who in the hell would I try? It's Halloween weekend at WSU and literally every person in Pullman who I'd ever met was probably plastered well beyond driving capabilities.

Switching gears for a moment, we'll check in with the rest of the crowd.

Ozzie never managed to catch up to the rest of the group who had pulled ahead of us. At one point he begins to follow a crowd of people he assumes is his, only to find out a block and a half later that he caught up to the completely wrong people. Following a failed attempt to join up with them, he goes to pull out his phone to call Blake or Ashley who stayed in the larger collection of people. It's here that he discovers that all that excited jumping he had performed earlier meant that his phone came out of his pocket, and is now somewhere on the one mile stretch he'd walked down some 15 minutes earlier. Ozzie isn't one to let things like get him down though. He continues his trek through the neighborhood, confident that he'll stumble upon this wonderful shindig we've all been working our way toward.

Meanwhile, Mallory and a few our her friends move to their second house party of the night. They meet up with her younger sister, whose friend from their home town has joined in the festivities. They go from house to house, being handed drinks left and right by totally not creepy fraternity members. For this lucky group, things are actually pretty damn fun right now.

Blake and Ashley, who managed to make it all the way to the address we were given, at last arrive and enter the mysterious residence. The atmosphere is immediately uncomfortable as they realize the crowd is all strangely much older than the average age of Pullman residents. Beyond this, most of their friends had fallen behind or been turned astray during the rather arduous journey. The unpleasant decision between staying at this awkward let down of a party, or turning directly around into the pouring rain to walk back to the house, looms over the two as their buzz fades quickly.

Back at the Mcdonald's that we've taken shelter in, I return from the bathroom to find things have gone from bad to worse. An employee is now approaching Barry and James. Suddenly, out of what I still maintain to be nowhere, a young lady walks up to me and asks if we need a ride somewhere. I am in complete shock as to why this absolute stranger is volunteering to take myself, our trainwreck of a friend, and James to whatever destination we chose. Still, I managed to formulate the correct combination of words that led to us cramming into the back seat of her two door Honda.

I cross my fingers and begin to utter something like a prayer as we begin moving, hoping Barry won't puke in this car. Lucky for us he went into his charming mode, and actually strung together as many as three syllables together at a time. At this point being relatively sure that no one will be arrested, I calm down a bit and even laugh with the girls in the front seat at the utter nonsense coming from Barry's mouth. I am absolutely tickled that utter nonsense was the only the to emerge from Barry during this ride.

We approach our house and after thanking them several times, I invite them in for a drink as a courtesy. They seem to honestly consider it for a moment before politely declining the offer. And I'm extremely pleased they did so: I later found out, after the girl who offered us a ride sent me a friend request on facebook, that these girls were all actually in high school. I had automatically assumed they were freshman at the University, and I'm very pleased that my dumbass invitation didn't lead to drunk-ass high schoolers in my house.

We manage to drag Barry up the stairs into our half of the duplex. We shove him through the front door, and leave him unceremoniously near the entrance. At this point we're completely exhausted from the drenching walk, emotional battery, and dragging the Barry's dead weigh into the house. I begin to ascend the stairs to my room, ready to shut this failure of a night down early.

Blake and Ashley decide they've had enough weird stares and awkward comments and hit the road. Rather downtrodden at this point, schlepping it through two miles of pouring rain the exact opposite direction they just traveled, a vehicle zooms past them and a passenger screams some sort of nonsense at them.

A few moments earlier, Ozzie is lost in the neighborhood relatively close to the failed party. Fear has started to take residence in his mind, as a Domino's driver parks a few houses down from him. A light bulb in his head clicks on as he approaches the car while the driver returns from his drop off. Mustering as much charm and sobriety as he could, he proudly declares that he, Batman, was in need of a ride back to the bat cave, and will this gentlemen please help the people of Gotham? By some stroke of luck comparable to a high school girl offering us a ride home earlier, the driver accepts this strange proposition. As they drive down Grand Ave, he spots Blake and Ashley, shouting at them excitedly out the passenger window.

Mallory and her collection of friends steadily raise their blood alcohol content every few minutes. She notices that her sister's out of town friend is starting to get extremely tipsy. Deciding to slow down a bit herself, she decides to keep an eye on the young woman.

As I'm almost halfway up the stairs, I hear the retching begin from near the front door. I turn back to see a small fountain of vomit erupt from Barry. The majority of this stream manages to make its way directly in Mallory's purse which sat on the floor next to him. Seeing how I managed to save him from being arrested I figured I may as well go the extra step and ensure he doesn't asphyxiate. James takes the reins as we drag his barely coherent ass down the hall to his bathroom. After what felt like much longer than necessary, the fountain subsides and we feel confident enough to leave him on his side and finally chill out for a minute or two.

The driver takes Ozzie pretty close to our house, but doesn't have the time to make the full trip. With a very extravagant thank you and probably some sort of batman quote, he exits the vehicle and immediately proceeds to walk in the wrong direction, away from the house. After he notices this and corrects his mistake, he arrives back at the house at about the same time Blake and Ashley do.

Back in Mallory's position, the young friend has surpassed the ability to walk in a straight line. Terrified that she would never be able to make the walk back to where she was staying, Mallory calls me in desperation to see if we can help at all.

Just as we all gather in the living room and begin to recount our individual stores of the night, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I answer it quickly after seeing that it's Mallory calling, and the tone of her voice quickly indicates that something is wrong. She explains that her sister's friend came up for the weekend, and long story short wasn't quite ready for the full Pullman experience. She inquires if by some miracle anyone is sober enough to drive up and take them home. I ask the room at large, and with another stroke of luck, James announces he hadn't actually had more than a drink or two earlier. Trusting in him completely, the two of us pile into my car and make the sketchy drive to greek row.

After far too many miscommunications about where Mallory was actually located, we manage to converge on each other. I get out to hug Mallory and check to see if everyone was alright. It's at this point that the young lady we're here to drive home stumbles up to me, looks me straight in the eye, and declares "you're not even that cute." Already thrilled with the situation, my mood begins to deteriorate even further. Mallory whispers something encouraging in my ear, but before this can have any positive effect, I count how many people are here. Mallory, myself, James, Mallory's sister and her friend, and another friend that had tagged along. My car holds five people, not the full six that we had assembled here. Mallory offers to walk home with me, as we certainly weren't about to leave one of these women to walk home alone in the middle of the night. Realizing both that some time alone would probably be beneficial for me right now, and that Mallory would probably be needed to get this now wasted teenager into her room for the night, I declined her offer.

As I walked back to my house, completely alone on what was supposed to be an excellent night, it hits me that while this whole thing has been a complete disaster, it will at least make a pretty okay story someday.

I enter the front door my house for the last time that night. By this time Mallory and James had already been to dorm where Mallory's sister lives and returned to my place. She is extremely distraught over the fact that contents of Barry's stomach now lined the inside of her purse. Still, she apologizes again for all of the stuff that went down, and I appreciate the hell out of it. I begin to explain the other 90% of what happened that night. A lot of laughter was had as we all told the stories of how our night went. I was crowned as winner of putting up with the most bullshit, and I then swore to one day do my best to craft a retelling of the shitty but hilarious night. The next day, with the exception of some absolutely wicked hangovers, everyone was in good health with clean criminal records.

And so that's pretty much the story. I had fun writing it, and look back on that night somewhat fondly now.

Halloween 2013 kicked ass though.