What is Real and What is Fantasy

THE PAST…Paul D was amazing at spinning stories. Mostly, he spun stories about me. Looking back, I now realize that he rarely talked about himself. He put me up on a pedestal and told people what an amazing person I was. He would mix pure fiction with the truth in a way I have still never seen before.

Our fraternity suite had become widely known over the campus. The Sigma Nu house had their Monday "Do drop in" party every Monday night. But it wasn’t long before our suite was drawing an even larger crowd. Students had their chance to rest on Sunday after a brutal stretch of Thursday, Friday, Saturday partying. It was Monday night. Gin and tonics were being poured as the fraternity ice machine spit out unlimited quantities. Freshman had found their way across the small campus, following the pulsating thump of the base. College classes were already a foggy ideal.

I remember a girl named Beth. She was actually a junior, meandering drunk amongst a sea of freshman outside suite 301 of the Sigma Chi house. Beth loved to talk, especially when she was drunk. We sat on the floor with our backs against the wall, watching the blurred legs stumble back and forth in front of us. Our brains struggled to take in the noise and conversation. Beth talked. I leaned to the right and puked in my plastic cup. Beth kept talking. I looked up and Paul was laughing hysterically at the end of the hall. I couldn’t hear him, but I could feel his belly laugh and his gregarious gestures. I looked back to the left. Beth was still talking a mile a minute. It was at this moment that I began to realize my capabilities. Beth was a well-known tease. But I did get to see one breast. I’ll never forget it. Beth was skinny and cute. But she had hairy breast. I didn’t care. I was king of Albion College and Paul D was bent over in half in either joy or laughter at the end of the hall.