The Weekend
October 21, 2011 JerseyGrins
We zipped down the highway last Friday, charging through piles of swirling leaves. I hung my head out the car window–like a dog sniffing and biting the air in excitement. We were heading to a great university tradition–Family Weekend.
In a fit of disorganization, I had booked a hotel at the last minute for my husband Scott and me. We roared up to the Dew Drop Inn, anxious to change and pick up our big sophomore for a lavish dinner at Taco Tico.
Wow. Only two cars in the parking lot. Scott and I dragged our suitcases into our room, marked neatly as “Non-Smoking.” Within seconds, waves of stale cigarette smoke curled up my nostrils, making my stomach tap dance. Scott headed for the front desk and I trailed behind, gulping in fresh air. My husband waved his arms emphatically and used all his Dale Carnegie skills. Soon, we were in a non-smoking room across the hall from our first non-smoking room.
I took a tentative breath in room number two. Air-vent stale; yes, but smokey, no. Then, I looked around. Surely, Animal House had been filmed here.
I saw a foot-long gash in the carpet, and the drapes hung as if Tarzan had taken a powerful swing. A few dust-balls peeked at me from under the queen beds. Well, no matter. That made me feel at home. But the bathroom. One sink had a jiggly spigot, while the other was missing a stopper. The brownish water wouldn’t drain from either sink. On the other side of the bathroom, a shower nozzle poked its wobbly head out of the wall. The Dew Drop Inn owners had energetically patched a two-foot square hole near the shower head. The chunks of plaster had hardened and hung, like coagulated cottage cheese. No one had bothered to paint the masterpiece.
Scott and I are sturdy Kansans, so we survived Taco Tico, a college comedy show, three vigorous rounds of beer pong, and yes–the Dew Drop Inn.
The next day, we prepared for a picnic at young son’s fraternity house. He had jointed the Nu Zeta chapter of Iota Toyota last year. One hour before the big party, my cell phone rang.
“Hey mom! Can you bring a couple of things for our picnic?”
“Sure. What do you have so far and what do you need?”
“Well, uh, we have some beer and some paper plates.”
Oh great.
“Uh, so can you bring some ground beef, some buns, some mustard and ketchup, and some baked beans? Maybe some chips?”
Sure. Why not.
Food in hand, we arrived at the picnic, planted kisses on our son’s face, and embarrassed him within two minutes. Our job as parents was done.
One hour later, we were down in the fraternity basement with our son, viewing the “party room.” It had been so dubbed because the room contained a huge metal tub–perfect for ice and scores of beer cans.
Suddenly, we heard a loud thud overhead and a chorus of male voices wailing “Ohhhhhhhh…….maaaaaaannnnnnnn.”
Racing upstairs, Scott and I saw that the large table of food had collapsed. My beans oozed over the floor. A Plus, the fraternity’s golden retriever, was busily slurping up beer, beans, and chocolate cake, in that order.
We headed home later that night, after planting more embarrassing kisses on our son. Scott and I flopped into bed, exhausted.
You know what? It was the best weekend of my life.
Entry Filed under: Uncategorized and tagged: parents' weekend; fraternity party; terrible hotel; comedy
