I walked into the house, expecting to find it quite and tranquil since it was 1am. Instead the smell of smoldering cigarettes and warm beer filled my nostils, the sounds of quaters on countertops, Micheal Bay enternainment, and the filled my ears. After a six hour dirve to Kingsport, to reunite with Cru friends I was ready to call it a day to continue on to Encounter. But at this moment the trip changed, from enjoyment to survival.
The gentlemen of this trip had been arranged to room at a local guys house that his parents owned but have left to him for one reason or another. Hearing this, I joked about having a house party to kick off our trip, little did I know that my dream would come true.
Now, back to the ash tray on the coffee table. The host of the party warmlyinvited us in, offering us beer, and any seat in the house. He gave us the grand tour of the three story house, designating which beds weren’t too messy to sleep in. After throwing our bags in a room with random cloths thrown on the floor, we joined in the shin-dig down stairs. Captivated by the movie, I lost a few hours of time without feeling fatige. Throughout the movie the sound of a piercing thud would ring from downstairs, intrigreed, I asked about it. A shooting range. Yep, an indoor shooting range down in the basement. I took a bullet casing for a suvianer, something that I could throw into my nick-nack box and a couple years later reflect back upon the night I roomed at a House Party.
Soon after we learned the where abouts of the gunfire, we retreated to our rooms. Needless to say we locked the doors. With the party shifting into high gear downstairs we tried to get some shut eye. As we fell asleep we laughed about the fact that on the way to Encounter we are locked in a room at a house party, with random gunfire from the basement. It was 3am when we fell asleep.
It was 5am when I awoke with a sound like gunfire, outside our door. I was sweating when I shook myself awake. A voice demanded for the door to be open. After I stepped on my roommate while stumbling to the door, I finally made it to the door. With it open a very pissed party goer stepped inside and flipped the lights on. His demand was two Blackberries and a Zune. His nostrils flared, his eyes jotting back in forth, he once again he demanded his Blackberry and Zune. “I know someone has it, they answered when I called and then hung up, WHERE IS MY BLACKBERRY!” My mind was racing with anything Blackberry in the past twelve hours. I stumbled to find words, my lips trying to wake up. I finally met his demend with an explanation of a Blackberry that I saw on the coffee table downstairs. “That’s the One!” he yelled. I explained that by 3am, when we went to bed, the Blackberry was still on the table. He stomped out the door yelling, never to lock the door again. As I tried to fall back asleep I heard him pound on the next door down, demanding his Blackberry.
We awoke laughing.