So here's a couple.
November 1985, I'd just turned 19, which was the legal drinking age for the State of Texas at the time. Now, I'd never had an ounce of liquor before that because I was a good girl, and good girls did what they were told. And didn't do what was forbidden.
By this time, I'd been in ROTC for three months, been to numerous Black Hawk parties, and become the de facto mascot of the Corps. And the designated driver. But my birthday was a different story, it was time to get Pinky drunk. So they made me a lopsided cake and Trash Can punch, and we proceeded to party. I have no memories, but I have stories, campus cop documentation, and I think all the negatives. (Thank God I was young before camera phones and the internet). We drank, we danced (well, I danced), we partied. We soon left the Den of Inequity and headed to Mitch Jones Hall, seven stories, male dormitory with permanent rappelling equipment on the roof. Drunken night rappelling seemed like a really good idea at the time. More punch, a couple of rappels, and someone suggested/dared me to rappel au naturelle, in the buff, wearing nothing but a Swiss seat and boots. Awesome!
Now, we'd been at this unauthorized, after midnight rappelling for almost an hour, and surely someone somewhere had noticed. But in my inebriated state, I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about the stupidity of rappelling nekkid in November in the Texas Panhandle. It was a little nippley. So I'm stripped down, hooked up, ass hanging over the ledge, and the spotlights from the Campus Cops' patrol cars hit me. I was beyond the point of no return, the only way was down. So down I went, sobering up with every storey I got closer to the ground. I looked up at my "buddies" to see that half had split, and the other half were rolling with laughter. As soon as I hit the ground and unhooked, the cops threw a blanket on me and ushered me into the backseat of the squad car. Sitting there is humiliated misery, the door opened and Sgt. Denny peeked in at me, and I had 50 percent hope and 50 percent despair. He'd graduated with my brother, the Wild Child, and I was hoping he'd go easy on me.
"Why?" "Well, sir, it's my birthday." "Happy birthday, get dressed and go home."
So that's my wild child rappelling story. And yes, I burned the negatives.
Congratulations, I hope you realise that every one here would give you an up vote for that!
ReplyDeleteOne question: did Poppy know about this before this post?
ReplyDeleteOOPS
Terry
Fla.
Yes, yes he did. He just won't be happy I shared.
ReplyDeleteAt least you didn't have a dic.... penis to get got up in the rope.
ReplyDeleteNow that would've been a birthday to remember!
Sometimes it's what you DON'T do that makes the deal.
ReplyDeleteI was helping sort through old climbing gear at the ROTC barracks (U of Richmond, ’73-‘75) and we had some old green-line and some links that had taken some serious loads and were considered unsafe. Once I promised it was only going to tie down loads in truck or trailer they let me have the gear.
The rope and gear found its way onto a library building on another college’s campus. Their campus police, library staff, and local PD spend WEEKS inventorying their collectables and trying to find out what was stolen and who took it. Nothing, of course, was missing.
It was back in the 80s, you know, before hardcore waxing. Still a birthday to remember.
ReplyDeleteAnd Stretch, you're an evil genius.
ReplyDeleteAs Wire says - I'm wincing at the thought.
ReplyDeleteWhat is it with women and taking their clothes off to do stunts (and how come I only hear about it later?).
We men don't do that sort of stuff, especially when with a bunch of guys (well except for navy types but it's all that marching hand-in-hand that does that to them).
As I said to a lady the other week, who was loudly explaining that women can tolerate pain better than men, citing child-birth as her prima fascia evidence "until you catch your **** in your fly you don't know the meaning of pain, not only the physical either, the mental anguish of do I continue trying to zip 'up' or try to zip 'down' is almost unbearable".
Oh, and Able wants pic or it didn't happen.