Eric Wang

Yeah, That'll Happen #18

My Not Spring Break



Ah, spring break, the last college huzzah for us graduating (fingers crossed) seniors. Everyone gets all excited about going to Acapulco, or Cancun, the poor man's Acapulco, or South Padre Island, the poor man's Cancun. But when you're from a place where its 75 degrees every day and your pool house has a great view of the Pacific Ocean, then home isn't such a bad place to go either.



Of course, if you're not from Orange County and have flies coming out of your wallet like they do in the comics, then home is kinda boring. Unless you're from Texas and spend your school year north of the Mason-Dixon Line, which happens to be further north than I thought. And seeing as how I had to pay part of my rent in change, home was the place to be. I mean, paying in coins is one thing, but you know its college when the landlady looks like she's had this happen before.



So this is my discount spring break at home. And by that, the only things that happened to me were that I went to Pittsburgh, Dallas, Austin, and back. Nothing else happened.



While in Pittsburgh, none of these things happened to me"



I did not steal two kiddie hats from a Long John Silver's. I also did not give one to my friend Mike and suggest that we wear those hats all throughout Pittsburgh International Airport. We also did not talk in pirate lingo to everyone all day.



I did not pee myself while passed out on Mike's brother's couch, sitting next to his brother's girlfriend, watching the first episode of The OC on DVD. I did not then proceed to strip naked, throw my clothes in the dryer, and huddle naked on the couch underneath a blanket. I did not think, in my drunken haze, that Mike was Ryan from

The OC, and then make him show me his driver's license to prove otherwise. I did not get invited back.



While in Dallas, none of these things happened to me"



I did not go nuts and eat Whataburger or Taco Cabana for each meal. I've already re-enacted Super Size Me once before over winter break.



I did not contract rotavirus induced gastroenteritis (or a wicked stomach flu, for those of you who aren't hypochondriacs and read WebMD for every little thing) for three days, try to control it with sushi and sake bombs, and subsequently forget what it feels like to have a solid BM. I did, however, giggle every time I heard the word diarrhea. Some things never change.



I did not consider how funny it would be if I were a magician and happened to be very cheap, and pretended to tip the bartenders using my sleight of hand skills.



At home, I did not stand up too quickly one time to go pee, and then black out, keel over, hit my head, and then have the toilet paper dispenser break my fall. I also did not have to explain to my parents that I wasn't drunk at the time, I had just been drinking.



I did not realize that the only time I use soap to wash my hands is when the bathroom attendant at a bar offers it to me. I also did not use my sleight of hand trick while tipping him.



While in Austin, none of these things happened to me"



I did not go to The Dizzy Rooster on 6th Street and see them filming Real World: Austin. I did not say hi to Rachel, Johanna, and Danny. (I'm not sure Danny is even on the Real World, he just said hi to me.) I did not realize that I totally want to be on the Real World, and make myself a more successful Dave Eggers.



Mike and I did not decide it would be hilarious to poop in a club bathroom with no toilet seats. My gay friend Ewing did not try to peek over the top of the stall and then try to kick the door in. Jackass.



I did not try to induce vomiting in a parking lot of a Taco Cabana, and have security guard yell at me, and then convince him to bring me some napkins and water.



My gay friend Ewing did not decide it would be a great idea to hop in the shower naked while I was in there and keep me company. (Seriously, it's like what prison must be like.)



I did not have a bird crap on the back of my shirt as I was running underneath some trees in a parking lot of an Olive Garden, and then not notice it for a significant amount of time while I had dinner with my parents.



I did not decide that two pairs of boxers constitute an acceptable pair of shorts, walk down the street to my car, and say hi to people.



I did not spend an hour getting The OC ringtone on my phone, nor did not spend an hour trying to figure out how to get the "My Wall" thingy to show up on my Facebook page.



I did not have lunch with my successful sister, and realize that she is now the more favored child. I also did not like passing the baton over to her. At least I had a good run. And also, I've got free lunches from my sister from here to eternity.



Finally, I will end this column with a story about my roommate Mike. Motherfucker decides that he has to crap real bad, while I'm booting in the parking lot. He tries the Port-A-Potty, which happens to be locked, and then panics. Desperate now, he runs to downtown Austin, pulls down his pants, and then pulls the trigger. On a bank, no less. His only saving grace is that he thought ahead and brought napkins with him. Holy crap, literally.





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