They went out and bought us each a bottle of this hobo-grade wine called "Night Train"

I never really intended to rush a frat, but during the spring semester of my freshman year, a bunch of my buds dragged me into the whole greek system. The whole pledging system was actually alot of fun, with plenty of initiation parties to counter memorizing stupid greek stuff. Unfortunately, I can't remember most of what my friends tell me was one of the best nights of my life.

I'll start off with what I do remember: It had been a shitty week, the previous weekend I had been raped by a fat chick (whole other story); I had a test every day, and to top it all off, I caught a really bad case of the flu. Luckily it was Friday and I could look forward to some fun ahead. My big (frat) brother told me I had to come to this huge party at one of the guy's apartments. The doctor had given me some powerfull antibiotics and I was already feeling better. Of course, I chose to forget the warning he gave me not to drink while taking the medication. Something about it doubling the effect of the alcohol.

We started the night with some hot wings, about the first thing I could keep down all week. One of the frat guys asked me if I wanted to ride the train, being the dumbass allways trying to outdo everyone, I agreed to without even knowing what I was getting into. They went out and bought us a bottle each of this hobo-grade wine called "Night Train." In order to properly "ride the train," the 40 had to be chugged. Not to be outdone, I finished before anyone else and filled the bottle back up with a 50-50 mix of voka and ale. Yeah, great idea.

This is where I start to get really fuzzy. After finishing the mixed 40 in another chug contest, I began on a quest to do as many beer-bongs as possible. No memory after that-but luckily my friends were there and filled me in on my exploits the next day. The party was at somebody's apartment on the top floor of the complex. At one point my system had too much and I ran to the balcony, making it just in time to puke on the hood of someone's car down below in the parking lot.

They quoted me saying "No more beer bongs! Let's do shots you pussy lightweights!" After numerous shots, three of the frat guys had to drag me back upstairs after a failed attempt to hook up with the girls who lived downstairs. Thank god they did, I saw them a few days latter-sober-that would have been bad. After this, I decided it was a good time to resume with the beer bongs. For an unknown reason I decided to start a push-up competition with myself in the middle of the floor after another beer bong onslaught. Only problem was that after I completed my pushup exhibition, I could no longer walk.

Losing the ability to walk or stand didn't stop me though. I was next seen crawling up to chicks trying to hit on them and even made repeated trips to the fridge for more beer. After a long struggle to find somewhere comfortable to relax, I climbed up onto a couch. By the will of some alcoholic demon inside me I didn't pass out. The next day the guys that lived there said I was screaming obsenities long past everyone went home and continued drinking the beer people had left me on the nightstand next to the couch.

The only clear thing I can remember after the Night Train was waking up from the couch at around ten in the morning, cleaning out the bucket of puke next to me and walking back to my dorm to pass out until late that night.

I ended up getting out of the frat because of my military commitment, but to this day I still get people I don't know coming up to me and asking me if I'm "the crazy guy from that party."