The Onion Dip Column is the satire section. All articles are not to be taken seriously.
I took the drunk bus this weekend. I don’t know why I did it. I wasn’t even drunk. I guess I just wanted to get out of my dorm and go somewhere, wherever the drunk bus would take me. So, I decided to hop on board.
I started walking over to the Williamson parking lot, where the drunk bus was waiting, but when I turned around, I heard the booming sound of frantic footsteps approaching. A group of four rowdy first-years was running for the drunk bus, heading straight toward me. I picked up my pace to avoid getting caught in the stampede. The five of us hurried onto the bus and took our seats.
The drunk bus wasn’t exactly what I expected. I went in thinking it would be like one of those party buses that people take to bachelorette parties, the ones with disco balls and colored lights and 2000s pop songs playing on full blast. Well, there was none of that. It was just a van. The only difference between the drunk bus and the van we use for environmental science field trips was that one had drunk people. And I much prefer the ENE vans, filled with people talking about caves instead of party-going first-years scream-singing “Dance Monkey.” If you’re looking for a fun weekend outing but have no place in mind, I wouldn’t recommend taking the drunk bus. Save it for when you’re actually drunk or have somewhere to go.
We did make one unexpected stop. When I noticed we had driven down Harrisburg Pike past campus and past the soccer field, I grew confused. The bus turned right onto Dillerville Road and then turned right again into a parking lot. Are we going to Wendy’s? I thought. But no, the situation was much worse. We were going to Waffle House.
The four other students on the bus with me must have been really drunk because right as we pulled into a parking spot in front of the Waffle House, they cheered. They stumbled out of the bus, still hollering in excitement, and I reluctantly followed. We sat down at a booth. I didn’t order anything since it was 12:30 AM, and I had no intention of going there in the first place. But the other students ordered food, and a whole lot of it. One got 14 waffles, and another ordered a waffle with all the toppings offered. The third one requested a pile of bacon, and the last one asked for a tomato for some reason. I guess it’s a good thing Waffle House doesn’t serve alcohol because they definitely would have ordered some, and they sure didn’t need any more.
When the food came out, the other students didn’t eat it. Instead, they all threw it at each other, screaming profanities. Some of it was thrown at me, too. One of the 14 waffles hit me square in the face, syrup sealing my eyes shut. That was followed by the tomato, which hit me in the same place as the waffle and splattered. My face was covered in sticky syrup and tomato juice as I sat there frozen in the booth, helplessly watching these strangers from my college turn into chimpanzees. Although they were noticeably drunk the whole time, it was only when the food came out that they turned violent. So, I guess everything they say about Waffle House is true. It brings out the worst in people–
Oh…wait…so you’re telling me this didn’t actually happen? But I remember it so clearly…
OH! It’s all coming back now. I really was drunk. I never even left my dorm! I guess my inebriated mind just fabricated this entire story. Oops. Sorry about that.
Well, anyway, you should all take the drunk bus sometime! I’m sure it’ll be fun. Just make sure you don’t end up at Waffle House.
Sophomore Carrie Teti is a Staff Writer. Her email is cteti@fandm.edu.