May 1999
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Girls, Beer and Unconsciousness

by John O'Briant

Having read The Shrub religiously for the past 8 or 9 months, I have gathered that many of you out there reading or submitting to this thing are college students. I have therefore decided to share this funny little anecdote about college life with you.

You see, this past Tuesday I missed all of my classes. These include an 8:30, a 10:00 and a 2:00 class, all in the music department. I missed them because of girls, beer and unconsciousness. However, I took the highly unorthodox version of this path to its unfortunate conclusion.

Next to my bed in my dorm room is an end table on which sits my television. And on top of that television, until this incident, sat a very large wooden sign advertising Beck's beer. Now, those of you who know me know that I don't drink as a rule, but I have this large Package-store wall ad for Beck's Beer on my television anyway. This is because my girlfriend's name is Becky, and I affectionately refer to her as Beck. She therefore thought that it would be cute to seek out and give me a large wooden sign in the shape of a bottle of Beck's Beer. I am very fond of the bottle of beer even to this day.

So anyway, I decided to stand the thing up on my television and display it proudly to anyone who came in my room. No one actually comes in my room except Beck because I live on the fourth floor of my dorm which is in the middle of nowhere, but that's another matter. Point is, big sign, television, end table, bed. Dorm room.

So on this particular morning, I was awoken by my alarm clock at 8:00, so I would have ample time to shower and make it to class five minutes late. After hitting my alarm clock several times, I finally managed to turn it off and flop over in bed again. After a minute or two of agonizing over whether or not I really felt the need to go to class I crumpled out of bed onto the floor next to my bed. I knocked into the end table, and the sign, which I should remind you is of a pretty decent size, fell off of the television and landed square on my head.

What happened after that I'm not sure, but I think that either it knocked me flat unconscious or I then decided that I really didn't want to go to class and therefore that I would fall asleep in the middle of my floor. I'd tend to believe the former, judging by the large and extremely painful bump on my head that I felt when I eventually came to, at about noon. I decided that taking the rest of the day off and visiting a doctor was probably in order and I missed my last class for the day.

So when asked why I wasn't in class that day, I could honestly reply, hopefully for the first and last time, "Girls, beer and unconsciousness."

Author's Note: The author has suffered several similar head traumas including an incident with a headlong sprint into a toilet at a young age and a freshman-year-in-college encounter with an extraordinarily large stack of chemistry books and a collapsing bookcase. The author believes that these head traumas are largely culpable in matters such as his dry, un-amusing prose style, inability to tell jokes and fondness for watching golf on television.

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