The weed pouch and bowl flew out of my hoody and landed at the feet of my advisor

It was late November of my sophomore year when I had an epiphany: I'm a walking cartoon. The semester was winding down and the administration was hassling slackers like myself to register for spring classes. As usual I'd waited till the absolute last minute to roll out of my stupor and handle my shit.

I'd spent the previous night with some of my boys, trippin on some decent acid and drinking Old E in the middle of the all purpose soccer field (of course!). Note: Weeks earlier, my girlfriend Shawna told me to "get your head out of your ass and sign up for some mutha fu**in' classes..." I guess my agenda was a bit skewed.

I awoke that morning to a THUMP THUMP THUMP on my dorm door. The second I turned the knob Shawna blew past me screaming something unreasonable about me failing out of school and ending up working for Hofstra public safety. My hangover was pounding so hard that I couldn't really hear the content of her little "pep-talk." Through her stream of insulting curse words and finger snaps I managed to draw two conclusions:

1-Brooklyn girls talk way too loud 2-Today must be important

"Today's the last fu**in' day!" Shawna shouts, as she lights up my last cig. "I know you ain't done shit yet!" She screams.

"Sweet fu**in' Christ!" I grab the smoke out of her mouth. "The last day before what? Before they stop giving out free condoms downstairs? Before you get your damn period? What?"

Oh shit, this really sets her off. A piece of advice for all you dudes with slutty taste: don't EVER talk back to a Brooklyn girl with big earrings--unless you're willing to knock her out.

After getting smacked and having the door slammed in my face, I sat down and reached for my calendar. ‘Crazy bitch,’ I thought, "Today ain't shit." As I perused my Hofstra Guide to Pride handbook, I sparked up half a spliff I'd saved from the previous night. Two hits and the walls started melting again. Still trippin, I gathered my head. As I came upon the date I was looking for, I couldn't believe my eyes. If I didn't get into classes today, I actually wouldn't be going to school next semester.

"No big deal," I said out loud. “I'm stoned... I'll just wait in line."

On these cutoff days, the line to see one of seven general advisors is about eight hundred people long. As soon as I walked onto the main campus, I spotted some friends already in line. I quickly charmed them into squeezing me in. Five hundred down, three hundred to wait on. I stood patiently for about five minutes but that was all I could handle. I asked the folks politely if they'd save my place and they nodded. I ran behind a big bush next to the library to smoke some weed. I'd brought my little pouch with me. It contained a bowl and a sack of ganja. Within a minute I was high and trippin balls again... "Damn, that was pretty good acid!"

Back to the line, and this time I had no trouble waiting.

My name was called about two hours later. At this point I'd made it to the inner office and had a chair. Piled on my lap was my hoody and registration forms. I stood up abruptly, and swung my sweatshirt over my shoulder. In mid swing, my weed pouch flew out of the hoody pocket. The bowl soared from the pouch across the room, bouncing on the carpeted floor and coming to rest at the feet of my advisor.

A hush fell over the entire room. Thirty students stared and gasped as though Jesus himself had just walked through. I quickly grabbed my pouch and then silently approached to face my doom. But the acid hadn't worn off yet. I began chuckling at my ridiculous luck. Still, nobody made a sound. My chuckle quickly turned into an all-out laugh. I came face to face with the somber looking dude. He reached down, picked up my bowl, and handed it back to me in front of thirty students and five secretaries. "Let me guess, you were sitting on the soccer field last night?"

I stopped laughing immediately.

*Gulp* "Yeah, uh... how'd you know that?"

He frowned.

"One of your idiot friends just did the same goddamned thing. Once we were in the office he admitted that he and a bunch of his friends stayed up all night drinking and doing drugs on the soccer field. I gave him the benefit of privacy... two times? You must be a complete moron."

“Yes sir, it would appear so!”