There are moments in life when you know what is going to happen next – the teens in the cabin in the woods decide it’s a good idea to go into the basement, a girl takes back her cheating boyfriend, you eat the last mozzarella stick knowing you’re full…Erin, George and I attempting to transport the mattress down the stairs was one such situation.
George was standing by the last doorway we needed to pass before we had to create a diversion to get rid of the building manager. Erin was at the top of the stairs holding the higher end of the mattress, and I was supporting the bottom.
Perhaps it was all the laughter, maybe it was the liquor sloshing back and forth in our still, extremely underdeveloped freshman livers – but the combination of both these thing coupled with George’s shotty directions caused Erin to get that look. You know the look – the look that tells you that you’ve not only made a horrible mistake but that you’re going to pay for it.
Suddenly there was no laughter – Erin’s eyes had become glossy, her cheeks began to widen and as she went to warn me, the night’s drinking spewed forward and Erin let out the loudest scream I’ve ever heard in my entire life. She let go of her end, allowing the mattress to rush forward – pinning me against the wall.
George, in an attempt to aid Erin, pushed past the mattress thus smooshing me even further into the cinderblock. Hearing my cries, George turned back to make sure I wasn’t too hurt but slipped on the fresh vomit, slamming into both the mattress and myself.
As uncomfortable as I found myself against the wall, I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically as Erin attempted to collect herself and check on George. They removed the mattress from my back and peeled me from the wall to my find me a giggling mess.
“Lauren – there is something so wrong with you.” George giggled.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “I know…but I fucking love you guys.”
“I need some gum.” Erin said.
“No!” I cried, snatching her arm and looking towards the door, “we must go on!”
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