The beauty of Halloween week. My friends and I decided to buy tickets to the annual bus trip booked by our university to a well-known club in the city. The bus trip was an hour-long drive and was notorious for being a complete and total muck-fest. Only the most deplorable college freshmen and sophomores go on the trip, so it was only right we showed up to ensure things went according to plan.
The busses filled with the typical college Halloween outfits — some funny, some hardo, and most letting everything hang out. One of the latter, dressed in an overexposed tutu, had walked on to the bus immediately grabbing the attention of our group of 15 brothers who had taken over the back eight seats of the bus. She saw our group and made her way to the back, her eyes locked on my roommate Max.
Max is the type of reckless kid who has no filter, especially when he gets a little liquor in him. He immediately looked at her and yelled, “Hey baby, I like your outfit. The color really brings out your eyes.” Although her outfit was completely pink, she ran to him like it was the first compliment she ever received in her life. After a few, and I mean very few words, they started hooking up right there in the back seat for everyone to see.
This all sounds like a normal Hallo-week encounter but remember this is an hour ride in a yellow school bus with kids crushing water bottles of vodka and doing miscellaneous drugs. One of my good friends had already puked in the aisle of the bus, so the night had officially started to take an interesting turn. Soon, people had to piss, and piss they did.
Everyone seemed to live by the same rule that night: When the cup runneth over, piss on the floor. Soon I could see the floor around my feet getting wet. The smell got so bad to the point where everyone had the windows open hoping to get away from that awful piss/puke smell. It was like we were all stuck in a jenkem bottle just waiting to be huffed.
I turned around to open my window when I saw Max with tutu girl in his lap. She was riding him like a jockey at the Belmont Stakes in a cramped school bus seat, surrounded by various bodily fluids. At this point in the night I realized I enrolled in a trash school and hang out with trash people, so that makes me trash by association, and I don’t have a problem with it.
One of our blacked-out friends Kev was cheering Max on from a few rows down, which soon led to half the bus chanting “MAX, MAX, MAX!” as he tried to focus on the task at hand. Soon, people were hooking up with girls left and right, piss and puke still sloshing around the floor of the bus like a sewage pipe on wheels.
This was the closest thing to a brothel I had ever seen. All of us were rats in a sewer at that point, but with your morals, dignity, and hygiene in one hand and the other hand full of someone’s genitals, the choice becomes clear. At the end of the day, isn’t that what Halloween Week is all about?.