Chapter 9 - Porcelain -- The Other White Meat

Chapter 9 - Porcelain -- The Other White Meat

House parties during my time in college were always…well let’s say interesting bordering on infamous. For instance the party at Anthony’s place that Dok detailed earlier in this book. Whether it was at my place with Bruce or at Dok and Homer’s place or even at Kimmy and Val’s place, there was always a story to tell afterwards.

Back when I first arrived in Woodstock (circa: 1995) there was really only a couple of places to party. One being Club Kennedy (King Street above Greco Pizza which I am sure you will hear of in another tale or two) and the old green house up on Broadway. At the time a bunch of radio guys and I think some graphics folk lived there. The radio guys (Quinn and Slaney; I will tell you about their Halloween drag party as well)

Of course, over the years many different people chose this place to be their abode for the year, and of course it remained a pre-bar or pub night hang out for a bunch of people. In late 1998, well after I had graduated a bunch of friends of mine decided to take this place over for their final year. Lance (whom you know of through his car/ambulance GUMBY) and McCormick were two of many whom packed this place. There were a couple of reasons people picked this place. One being that it was close to the college and on the college side of the river to boot, so they didn’t have to walk across the Meduxnekeag River (By the way, Meduxnekeag was native for “FUCKING COLD WATER”)
The other reason people chose it was because it was stumbling distance from the pub and the bar, albeit an uphill stumble.

I arrived in Woodstock at the very beginning of the 1999 school year. As I was leaving for Calgary shortly after, I wanted to say my final goodbyes to everyone. Myself, Homer and Kimmy would often take the hour's drive up river to Woodstock on a whim, just to surprise some friends who remained at the college or lived in town. Yeah we would pop by some instructors houses as well. (Right Jeffy!).

During my tour I was informed that a party would be happening that night up at McCormicks and Lance’s place and that I was invited. I had spent most of my money on my bus ticket getting to Woodstock so didn’t have much money for food. (had to think of the alcohol I would be buying first) Thankfully I knew some folks who worked at the store/pizza house located right across the street from the college who kindly threw me a couple of pieces of pizza. (Thanks TJ)

It was about time for me to make my appearance at the party. And I was struggling over whether to spend my last $10 on more food (cause the pizza was sooooo good) or on beer. Being fresh out of college this wasn’t really a struggle. Many a night Brucie and I would agonize whether to fill the cupboards with Kraft Dinner or the fridge with booze. Needless to say many a night booze won. So I went to the candy store to pick up an 8-pack and headed up to the party.

The house was completely packed with people, most of which being college students I knew but of course in a party this size there are always going to be people you don’t know. There was also enough weed around to kill a small elephant, which wasn’t overly surprising if you knew half of these people.(not that students or instructors at the College did that sort of thing) It was getting a little crowded inside and due to all of the pot being smoked around me I was also getting quite high, so I moved through the house and out on to the back porch.

The two Christa’s, Radio's Jill, Dok and a few new Journalism students from St. Thomas University taking their Bachelor of Arts in Journalism degree were sitting on the porch. Chris Connors was one of them, I think Kaveri made and appearance as well. Chris, a really cool cat from Cape Breton (trust me, the accent gave it away) was sitting back on the railing of the porch drinking R&R right from the bottle.

Due to the very limited amount of food in my stomach, the beer was starting to take it’s toll after about six or so. I took a small rest from drinking to get my composure back then continued. The longer I talked to Mr. Connors, the more he kept offering me a swig of his rye. I thought what the hell, one little sip won’t hurt me. Yeah right, try five or six big ones.

Have you ever heard the saying “Liquor before beer you’re in the clear -- beer before liquor never sicker.” I wish someone would have informed me of that before indulging in the rye, cause the world starting taking me for a spin not to long afterwards. Now I have been very very drunk before(shocking I know). I have even passed out on one or two occasions, this night was as drunk as I can sort of remember being without passing out completely...that would come later on. I walked through the house through the blue cloud of smoke and out to the front step where I spent a good part of the rest of my stay at the party.

Everyonce in a while, someone would come out to make sure I was still breathing, and I guess sometimes it was a pretty close call. Eventually a couple of brave brave souls decided the best thing for me was to get some sleep. I was staying at Dok’s that night anyway, so Dok and McCormick drug me home. Being as polluted as I was, my legs weren’t working all that well, so when I say they drug me home, they literally drug me home.

Dok’s place was on the second floor of a three-story house. The inside stair case was twisty and turny, and the outside stair case was very steep, neither one was good for getting drunks home. But they chose the outside stair case anyway just incase I decided to lose what ever was left in my stomach. (The beer and the rye were still fighting for supremecy)

Dok's Edit:(*Dave's sidenote*: Dok was way more sober and vertical than I was, so take his word as gospel....) As Joey and I are standing in the bathroom, making sure that our buddy is going to be OK, Joey as he normally does, whilst drinking decides to start acting the fool. After one too many smartass remarks, Joey decided show off his trademark crotch chop. Unfortunatly to do so, he leans up against the sink. Not made to support the weight of a 19 year old pointing at his crotch, it begins it's quick decent to the floor. I try to decide to stop it but it's a lost cause, causing nothing but a cut finger on my part. With water everywhere, Dave decides that it's time to exit stage left, but as he mentioned earlier in this tale his legs are not working as they should. So he crawls out to the deck (really a 3foot by 5foot landing and a great entry route for those drunks who just couldn't find their way to THEIR OWN HOUSES)

Back to Dave's recollection: Once inside, they immediately took me to the bathroom. And the first thing I held on to was the sink. A small porcelan thing jutting from the wall. Now, I either went to the toilet to hurl and tried to prop myself back up with the sink or lost my balance leaving the bathroom and fell back on it, regardless next thing I hear is a loud bang and water at my feet. Somehow the sink was removed from it's rightfull spot on the wall, and hot water was burning my feet.
Someone cut their finger on the porcelain either by trying to catch it on the way down, or fumbling with it while it lay on the bathroom floor. While all this is happening I am sitting on the edge of the tub hoping beyond all hope that I wasn't the one who broke the sink. My head is in my hands, my feet are still burning from the hot water (still coming from the pipe) and then I noticed the blood. Thankfully it was only a small cut, which stopped bleeding quickly.

Fearing that I might cause more damage, Dok helped me crawl to my post, where he would have been well within his right to push me down the stairs or throw me over the edge, but like the brother he is he sat me down and handed me what was to be my best friend for the rest of the night. My red bucket. Things were spinning, my head was ringing from the eminent hangover that I was to have the next day and I could still hear the party going on across the street.

After what seemed to be a couple of days, (mere hours) I crawled back into the house and found the nearest thing to rest my head on, Dok’s beanbag chair. Dry heaves followed and I think it was either Dok or Devon put the bucket over my head. The thing is, I don’t remember them doing this, so when I woke up the next morning or afternoon whenever it was, I thought I was laying in a pool of blood. All I saw was red. And everytime I called out to someone, there was this strange echo. It didn’t take long for me to realize I had indeed slept in a bucket the whole night. Evidently, they put the bucket on my head so I wouldn’t lay face down on beanbag chair and suffocate myself. What are friends for right?

(Dok's Final Thoughts: The night of the first class bash at the green house, all of the returning class was sitting on the back porch, discussing things that had happened over the summer. As it tended to do when we all got together when drinking, things got a little personal. Turns out that the cute chicky in Graphics (can't remember her name) lived in the house between mine and the green house got to know a lot about all of us before any of us knew what she looked like. She was the one that showed up at the apartment with Conners, dry humping on the floor. Poor Lance, sat there and watched it)