My Saturday, or how I managed to get 2 degrees without playing a drinking game, but not 3.

On Saturday, I went to an end of season party for a coed sports team I played on in an attempt to appear social. This was moderately unsuccessful until the manly men decided they were playing flip-cup, a game which I had never seen and had associated with a vague image of improbable physics with plastic cups. Now, normally, I would not be in danger of being recruited for this game -- ever, thank god -- but the mechanics tonight were that Captain A chose Captain B's team and vice versa, transforming me into the first pick on the playground -- that is, the most likely to make sure team B lost horrifically.

40 minutes later, after 6 "best of seven" rounds (we first won best of 3, then best of 5 then best of 7, until I really wanted to make a Bill and Ted reference) and about a dozen elimination rounds, Captain A was glaring at me a lot, as me and his second choice for "You suck the worst" finished kicking the shit out of him in the finals. After round one, my goal was to keep a straight face and pretend it was all intentional. My resident Irish Catholic* and culturally expert drunk responded to my text with: "I have never been more proud."

So that was pretty hilarious, and I didn't even die biking home. The end.

*The sort of American-Irish who celebrate their heritage by getting really trashed on St. Patrick's day and ordering drinks with politically incorrect names.