I figured since I’ve done a lot of stories about dating and break ups, I’d switch it up to something more bad ass. I mean, my name is Lara for God’s sake, after the incredible tomb raider, Ms. Croft.
Nah, nah. I’m kidding. I was named after some ho from Dr. Zhivago.
I was 19. Sweet, naïve, and college party ANIMAL. I moved off campus my sophomore year and lived with 3 other female animals. We felt so grown up. SO FREE.
Our apartment was “the” place to be Thursday through Saturday. We would do one HUGE beer run (since we were all extremely underage) and then play beer pong, smoke pot, and party until it was time to go to class the next morning or until we couldn’t drink anymore.
It was a great year besides a few choice issues.
Issue #1: I lived with a drug dealer.
Issue #2: I lived in a very “not so nice” part of town.
No, really. That’s a legit picture from my neighborhood. 100%
Issue #3: Said drug dealer was not so smart and used to deal pot to sketchy people from said neighborhood.
As you can probably already guess, we ran into MANY problems. These people would come up to my apartment off the streets without being invited. They would bust into my parties and sometimes create some havoc. Some claimed they were in gangs. Personally, I called bullshit on them. A real gang member would probably have murdered them.
Nonetheless, my parties were starting to look a lot like this.
Saint Patrick’s Day, 2008
We had a monstrous party at my house that night. Everyone was wearing green. We had decorations and TONS of beer. There were a SHIT TON of people at my place that night.
I was in the middle of a game of beer pong. Dominating. Obviously. When all of a sudden, two of the sketchballs that were there to see my drug dealer roommate started arguing.
Side note: One guy was named Boogie. That is NOT a pseudo name. That shit was real. He told me once that he was given that name by his “bros” and I asked him if it was because they thought he was the Boogie Man.
Mr. Gang member was not to thrilled about that comparison.
As I’m playing beer pong, I hear their argument get louder. All of my 19 year old college friends looked absolutely petrified, so I knew none of them were going to step in. Need I remind you:
I live with a bunch of girls, so I knew I was the only one who was going to stop the problem. I left my game and intervened.
I stepped in between the two guys and told them to knock it off. Surprisingly, Boogie kept his cool and backed away. The other dude was absolutely WASTED and was getting more violent. He started getting closer to Boogie, so once again, I stepped in the middle of them.
This time, the dude pushed me.
So, I did what any normal 19 year old girl would do to a 30 year old “gang” member, and I pushed him the FUCK back.
Then, he pushed me again.
Oh my God. You should have SEEN my friends’ faces. They were petrified.
So then, this dude pushes me. AGAIN. I had enough.
I told him to leave. He didn’t budge. So, I started pushing him out of my living room.
I lived on the second floor of an apartment. The door in my living room led to the stairs that created the exit for my unit.
I opened the living room door. Dude pushes me.
THAT IS FUCKING IT. I was too drunk for this shit.
I jumped on him.
I’ve never fought a dude before, and I really didn’t know what to do, so I put him in a headlock. I started to drag him towards the open living room door when all of a sudden, he pushed me down the stairs. Forgetting I had him in a headlock, he came right down with me.
Now, I don’t know how I did it, but I STILL had this guy in a headlock even all the way down the stairs.
My downstairs neighbors came out looking PISSED THE HELL OFF, and then after realizing I was fighting a guy twice my size, they tried to help me.
My neighbors: Lara! We’re calling the cops!
Me: I’VE GOT THIS YOU GUYS! GO BACK INTO THE HOUSE. GO! GO!
Hahahaha. Who the hell do I think I am?
Still in a headlock, said dude and I fall to the ground on my front porch.
After about a minute of wrestling him on the ground, the cops show up. I let him go from my grasp and the cops took him and drag him away.
After the cops drove away, I drunkenly proceeded up the stairs back to the party.
I open the door and there, all 30-40 of my friends were completely frozen in time, their eyes on me.
My spot at the pong table was still open. I honestly don’t think anyone moved an inch for that [probably] ten minutes.
I felt fine at the moment, but when I awoke the next morning, I was COVERED from head to toe in bruises and gashes.
Probably wasn’t the smartest thing I did.
Probably could have gotten myself killed.
But that was bad ass.
And I won that game of beer bong.