"I wasn’t quite at the predator stage yet."

During the first few weeks of college, you will always, no matter who you are, get the friends who haven’t started school yet to call you asking if they can spend a weekend night with you.

You are having a great time at school and don’t really want these kids to come but you are a little bit obligated. “Get your own school,” you may think. However, this situation is inevitable. Accept it.

My buddies Miles and Amir announced to me that they were going to come up to spend a Saturday night. “Great,” I thought. “Now how the fuck am I going to get into any parties with two other dudes outside of my circle of friends? Nobody wants a sausage fest.”

I was then informed that they were going to bring up bottles of liquor. That’s all the convincing I needed.

I met them uptown and was pleasantly surprised to see that they had brought along two girls but unpleasantly surprised to see another dude tagging along. These girls were no more than sixes but whatever, its vag right?

I took them back to my friends dorm who I would always go to every weekend to pregame and just toss back a couple of beers and sulk about how I was never going to get married and shit like that. As I began to consume a sizable amount of Mile’s liquor, the two girls that my buddies brought seemed way more interesting to me.

I began to talk to them in the fashion that I only I can seem to talk in. It’s a mixture of sheer charm and Casanova-esque conversational ability with a little dash of pedophile/sexual predator stalker-ness. I am able to attract them like shit to flies and talk to them to the point where they don’t want to stop talking with me, but then I always fuck it up with a “We can head back to my room and destroy each other” (we’ll get to that story later).

I learned that her name was Kaylee and they went to high school with Miles I worked with Miles every day over the summer at a golf course (boring job) and we exchanged many, many stories. I knew I had heard this chick’s name before, I just couldn’t remember where.

After a while of talking to Kaylee, Amir informed us that we could go to a party at some girl he knew from high school’s house. Boy oh boy. More people for me to talk to. We walked down the street to the house (damn, we got there fast). We were met with some resistance at first.

Apparently this really sweet party was a group of like six girls. Awesome. Girls are boring as fuck at parties. So we walked in anyway. I was drunk. They were people. Let’s talk to them. I did.

First target, for me, is always the host of the party. I ask them about their major, their hometown, and act like I am genuinely interested in the person. I, of course, am not. I am, however, great at acting like I am.

The next victim is always a hot chick. I searched this “party” far and wide for one and came up short. It was the Great Depression of attractiveness in this house. I knew what I had to do. “Miles!!!!! Where’s that bottle bro?”

He passed it to me and I stumbled to a nice arm chair. I sat in it like Marlon Brando in the Godfather and caressed the bottle like a cat. Then I drank more. I felt like a pirate just drinking out of a bottle.

Later I saw a picture of myself sitting there. It was a pathetic sight. Anyway, I just kept drinking. Then, all of the sudden, I had a Jimmy Neutron Brain Blast. I remembered where I had heard of Kaylee before. Miles told me a story about her.

Apparently, once while she was having sex with her boyfriend in a car (classy) he shit himself while they were fucking. That’s right kids, SHIT HIMSELF. The best part is that she kept fucking him even though she was well aware of what he just did and even assisted him in shoveling the poo out the window of the car.

I started laughing to myself to the point where I too almost shit my pants. Being the nice person that I am, I felt obligated to share the story with everyone in the room so that they too could share in the hilarity. I went over to my friends on the couch. I whispered in their ears the story and they started to lose it.

Then I said “Yeah you wanna know some real shit? That’s her right there! She allowed it! She allowed the dude to shit!”

Apparently, I was no longer whispering. I was drunk whispering. When I get drunk, I think I can say whatever I want to whoever I want with absolutely no consequences. Rightfully, she was upset. She awkwardly asked me to stop. Ha. That’s going to stop me. I told others. Soon, everyone knew she was “that girl”. Salty. You better think next time you let your boyfriend shit on you during sex. I’ll find out about it and make fun of you right in front of your face.

Well, I pretty much exhausted that story but was now the center of attention, which is where I crave to be in a drunken state. But I was riding an attention high and couldn’t just let it die out. I went into the kitchen. There was Miles and some girl.

Before you call me a cock-block, they weren’t doing anything. Just talking. Mitch sucks with girls. I saw a pencil on the table and what did I do you ask? The first thing that popped into my head was the movie The Dark Knight and the pencil scene with the Joker. I backed out of the kitchen then came back in doing that laugh that Joker does when he comes in to the gangster meeting. I have seen the film five times and can do a mean Joker voice (one of my limitless talents).

I did Joker’s entire speech and even pretended to slam Amir’s head into the table. To end it, I did the back-kick to a door leading into a room and just sat there for a second, soaking in my applause. I thought I had Kaylee in the bag after that.

Eventually, we ran out of booze and I subsequently stopped having fun. We thanked the hosts (never actually got their names) and departed. What happened next is rather fuzzy. Amin left to go uptown to dance. Cool. Somehow we got back to my buddies’ dorm and started ponging. I was winning and being most charming. I wasn’t quite at the predator stage yet.

Next thing I know, me and Kam are walking back to our dorm with the two chicks. Kam came through big time because I know for a fact I had nothing to do with them coming back. We made the trek back and safely slipped past the R.A.’s and got to our room. Score. The one girl hopped in bed with Kam, and me and Kaylee were the only ones left.

Now, I’m not math wiz, but I know that by the process of elimination, Kaylee had to get in my bed. That bitch laid down on the floor. I sat there for a second and pondered the situation. “What the hell is she doing? Is she stupid?” I climbed in bed anyway, and in a last ditch effort to get her in my bed I said the second greatest pick-up line of my life:

“Hey, uhh. You can sleep with me if you want. I’m not going to rape you.”

If that doesn’t make a girl wet, I don’t know what will. She then responded with this:

“Uhh no thanks. I have a bad back so I think I’m just going to sleep on the floor.”

Puzzled, I laid back and thought about this situation. I thought to myself, “If your back hurts, sleeping on the ground is worse for your back.” I laughed so hard I nearly pissed my bed. It is the greatest excuse I have yet to hear for a girl to not have sex with me.