At the end of the night, however, I had a 2 unexpected, uninvited guests.
First and foremost, if you don't already know, I live in the shittiest Fraternity House known to mankind. And that is really saying something.
This historic death trap will one day kill me, and has already taken a toll on my liver, soul, and anus, but boy has it given me some fucking stories.
And no, this isn't a frat 'lodge.' I don't wear a bowtie and stick things up undergrads' assholes. This thing is a part-time Crack Pipe Haven part-time Fetty Wap Flagship.
As a part of being in this flagship of AIDS, there are always people strolling in on a regular basis. Sometimes someone is just dropping by. Sometimes people lose things from the night before and are trying to recover them: phones, wallets, ID's, virginities, self-respect, dignity, etc.
Anyway, as my housemates and I were gathered in the loving room around the TV, it was nothing out of the ordinary hearing a knock on the front door.
Door opens, we hear footsteps up the stairs, someone yells, "yo!" A regular occurrence.
It was a little surprising, however, when the footsteps belonged to two 40-year old men.
One greeted us by promptly informing us that he belonged to our same Fraternity at another school and the other told us that was a Rutgers Alum but from another Fraternity.
Well, that's nice guys but its 10:45pm and we're just trying to watch baseball without our dads right next to us.
They took a seat and proceeded to drink beer that didn't belong to them. I figured they'd stick around for like 10-15 minutes.
Well, a full 1 hour 20 minutes later they were still in my fucking living room.
After about 5 minutes, we quickly realized they were both hammered having just come back from seeing Andrew Dice Clay at the Stress Factory. Most strangers who enter my house are usually under the influence of something, so I was unfazed.
Hickory Dickory Dock, These Drunk Bastards Didn't Even Knock.
If you don't get the reference you can go fuck yourself.
Anyway, I got to talking to them and asked them what they did for a living.
They then proceeded to pull out 2 guns.
They then both pulled out guns.
This turned out to be an interesting story right??? Aren't you glad you stuck around?
Questioning why they both had semi-automatic weapons, they began to explain they were both off-duty cops and one of them was even a Narcotics officer.
As he was telling us this there were 2 bongs and about a half an ounce of pot on the living room table. There were just enough drugs for us all to get arrested.
Someone asked if they ever shot or killed anybody. One said, "Yes, there's a video on YouTube. Look up 'unjust Somerville Shooting'"
After watching the video, I have to be honest, the shooting was pretty just.
The night proceeded for AN HOUR AND A HALF of them telling us about college in the 90's and how gay we are for not having enough beer for them to drink as though we are responsible for fueling their alcoholism and inevitable divorces.
If you're reading this and want to know when your welcome has been expired, ITS AN HOUR AND A HALF.
After enough awkwardness had ensued, and I didn't feel like being the one to politely ask them to leave, I went into my room to go back to my usual routine of not doing my homework.
Eventually they left leaving us to wonder when the next incredibly unwelcomed and awkward guests will show up.