Story Time!

This one happened during homecoming for FSU about two years ago. Homecoming brings a lot of alumni to town who want to revisit their old stomping grounds. I picked up Jeff and Marnie outside of the Palace Saloon.

Palace attracts an interesting crowd. Despite being next to the university, it's not super popular with students. It's less of a club than a dive bar, with a dirt lot to park cars and some sort of house specialty that is mountain dew flavored.

I met Marnie first, as he climbed into the back seat on the passenger side. He said hello and that he'd had a great time during Homecoming.

He then immediately blacked out.

(A quick note about Marnie: he was extremely large. I don't say that to say he was fat. We don't body shame here. I just mean that physically, Marnie was just a huge person. Massive. An "absolute unit," as the kids say. My car at the time was a SUV, and he barely fit.)

Jeff got in behind me and immediately took in his friend's slumbering form.

"Oh no, you gotta be kidding me. We didn't even drink that much! Come on, man! Wake up!"

Jeff then proceeded to slap Marnie across the face.

When I say slap, I don't mean a light tap. No gentle pats to get his attention. Jeff reached back and slapped the shit out of Marnie. Then he did it again.

"Wake up! I'm not carrying your 275 pound Samoan ass into the house!"

(Spoiler alert: we did.)

Alarmed, I asked if we should call for help for his friend. Jeff seemed annoyed.

"Nah man, he does this. He's just asleep. Big guys like us, we get sleepy, you know? Give him a second."

I did. Marnie started to snore.

I started the ride as Jeff continued to yell at his friend. We made small talk in between Jeff's occasional yelling and slapping. After about five minutes, Jeff slumped back in the seat, defeated.

"Fuck it, he's out. Wanna go to Whataburger? I'm buying."

We hit the Whataburger drive-thru, where Jeff bought me a soda and some fries. Marnie snored.

We pulled up outside Jeff's house.

"Hey man, I can't get him in there by myself. Can you help?"

I had no choice. If I didn't help, I'd have a sleeping Samoan in my car all night.

We opened the door and unbuckled him. 275 pounds of drunk Samoan listed to the side, falling into the middle of the backseat like a sack of potatoes.

That's when it hit me. Marnie was asleep. He was nothing but dead weight. We were screwed.

Jeff ran around and pushed him up to a sitting position. I swung his legs out. Before I could ask how we were going to do this, Jeff cut in.

"On 3, ready? 1, 2, 3!"

Jeff shoved Marnie from the back, and I fell into the grass with Marnie, smothered in sweaty Samoan manhood.

I tried to wiggle out from under the suffocating mass of Marnie, losing a shoe in the process.

Marnie snored.

Jeff ran over and rolled him off of me. He pulled Marnie to a sitting position.

"You okay?" he asked, handing me my shoe. Marnie fell over. Jeff sat him up again.

We each took a shoulder and lifted. We slowly managed to drag Marnie up the steps and into the house before dumping him unceremoniously on a couch.

Jeff thanked me. He said he'd tip me, but the ride was on Marnie's account. I said goodbye. I ate my fries.

Ugh.