Intro
I took a stroll down memory lane when I visited my old college campus. My mom still lives exactly one block away from the college I attended, so I guess a stroll down “memory lane” happens a lot. I have a lot of good memories from college from when I attended in the early 2000s. One such memory was the college basement house party.
saving myself
I remember in college when kids would say “I’m saving myself for tomorrow” in reference to taking it easy the night before a big party.
The strategy behind “saving yourself” was that you were going to be well rested for a night of getting sh*t canned and piss drunk. More often then not the plan would backfire because you would end up getting drunk too fast and be puking within an hour. I’m not sure if this strategy actually had any merit. Looking back I don’t think it did. It’s not like we gained more power to get drunk if we saved ourselves the previous night. I never said, “Well, I’m sure glad I didn’t go out last night because I wouldn’t be able to drink this much tonight.”
basement trust
I loved a good ol college basement house party. I’m not talking about a house party with all your friends. I’m talking about the ones you went as a freshman and going to some random’s house basement was the only option to drink. Most of the parties I attended were of people I didn’t know. We would hear about an address earlier in the day that was throwing a party and then walk to that address to see if a party was there later that night. It was a strange concept but it worked. I don’t think I would ever do that now. How scary would that be to do now? Here’s a random address that has beer in there basement with a whole bunch of horny dudes. It’s cool. It’s dark. Don’t worry. Nothing could go wrong. I would never do that as an adult. I don’t want to take that risk. I’m not going to a stranger’s basement to drink with people I’ve never seen before. But in college that was the coolest thing ever. I loved it.
5 below
College parties were a blast. It was $5 a cup for all you can drink. That’s the best deal I’ve ever recieved. Sure we were drinking the worst beer ever made. Think Natural Light. I was so cheap that I would say I’m not drinking and would find a cup in the basement and drink out of that. It worked a few times. It was probably one of the most unsanitary things I’ve done but that was life back then. Remember these parties were thrown in unfinished basements. I don’t even want to how much puke and piss was caked on the floor.
beer math
There’ was always a kid at the party who would pick up the keg and say “we got about an hour left”. Somehow the kid who failed geometry was predicting how much beer was left in a keg down to the minutes. This kid loved showing his knowledge of beer math. I’m not sure if he ever was right. I just remember a bro before bros were labled bros would pick up keg and make an ridiculous assessment. I guess it showed off his physical strength and ability to make an educated guess. This would appeal to the guys and ladies alike. Not sure if this technique ever got this dude laid but if so I would’ve used it religiously.
mock tender
Trying to get beer was the hardest part at these parties. There would be a group of 5-10 people huddled around the keg like it was a campfire in Canada. It would take awhile to get beer. I was never aggressive. I always waited patiently. Then all of a sudden someone would say “House Cup” which meant the guy filling beer would have to fill that first. It would trump all fills because the house cup belonged to one of the people who lived there. It was always a big 64 oz plastic cup that would take forever to fill. I should’ve just said “house cup” to get my beer filled but I was timid. The guy tapping the beer would always be a random. I’m not sure why people wanted to volunteer to fill people’s cups. It seemed stressful. I’m sure it was a control thing. He probably thought he was a hip bartender. It was probably his only way of talking to girls. Hey, I can’t hate. Whatever works. I probably should’ve been the tap guy too.
god boys
We looked at the people who lived at these houses as gods. They had access to beer, liquor, and Jell-O shots . That’s all we cared about. I guess we had low expectations or we were just young. If you were really lucky you got to hang out in the house of the person’s basement party. I felt like it was the VIP room of a club but it was just someone’s kitchen or living room. I didn’t care to make it in the real house though. I was never an elitist. I preferred the basement. I’m not some entitled prick who thinks he belongs on the first floor. Put me in the dark, moist, and humid basement filled with asbestos. I belong with the people. I’ve always been with the people. Power to the people.
doogie howser moment
I miss the college basement party. I learned a lot from the college basement party. I learned how the hierarchy of how society works. It’s like navigating the social infrastructure of politics and if you play your cards right you could move up. You can either dwell in the basement or make your way up to the first floor. You can stand against the wall and keep to yourself or put yourself in the party by becoming the tap guy. You can make outlandish comments like “there’s only an hour left” or just have fun. You can pay your $5 cup fee or hustle your way through life. Either way navigating the basement house party is relative to the person you become today.