258 Ontario Street, the location of a house in Albany where almost all of the most entertaining, crazy, and eventful nights of my Junior year took place. Basically my entire crew lived there; Burgundy, Harry, Scope, Fat, my R.A. Nick from freshman year, and a chill dude known as Gonzalez. I lived with Blanka that year on campus. We had a solid setup, during the week the guys would come to our place. We’d chill, get food, play video games, and whatever. On weekends we would go downtown to the house booze and head out. That’s where this next story takes place.
It’s the last weekend before finals, the end of the fall semester junior year, December in Albany and fucking freezing. We hit up 258 as usual and plan on getting hammered one last time before the winter break. Things are unusually dead downtown and were not too sure where we are going to go out after. We invite a group of girls over that we’ve been chilling with all semester. Before the girls come Patrick came up with a brilliant idea that would forever make this night memorable. Patrick found a drink online called the hydrogen bomb, it’s basically Four Loko mixed with even more alcohol. We used Four Loko’s cousin Sparks this night and added vodka to the already alcoholic beverage. With the exception of Blanka because he’s a pussy, we all had one. The drink honestly didn’t taste too bad so I was able to chug it quickly. We started playing some beer pong and that’s when I believe everyone began to feel the effects of the infamous Hydrogen Bomb.
A short time later the girls showed up with a 30 rack of bud light. This was one of the most glorious sights my young Jewish eyes have ever seen; just imagine drinking with your boys, and then a group of very good looking chicks show up to your place with beer in hand…I know, fucking beautiful. On top of that there was some dispute between us and these girls because when the year started, they would just come to our place drink our beer, hang out for a little bit and then bounce to a party without us. We started feeling like they were using us and honestly they kind of were. That’s a whole different story though, and them bringing a 30 rack of Bud light to the house was the metaphoric olive branch. With a fresh 30 added to our alcohol inventory the drinking continued with flip cup and more beer pong. At this point I start feeling shithammered, which was highlighted by me belly dancing/stripping as a distraction for beer pong.
An hour later the Hydrogen Bomb snagged its first victim, Fat. Fat was sitting down on the couch and just passes out…with his shoes on. That is all it took for us to start fucking with him. Burgundy and Scope start drawing dicks and other things on his face, I think Blanka was poking him and shit, and then I believe it was either Patrick or Harry who dumped an entire packet of hot chocolate mix on him. Fat was fucking covered and still managed to wake up and proceed to go out, without washing the dicks off his face. It was at this point where I blackout.
I do not remember leaving the house, I do not remember walking down the stairs, and I sure as shit don’t remember how I ended up by myself on Hudson, which fortunately was only around the corner from the house. When I came to I was alone drunk and sweating. Realizing I was alone I quickly turn around and head towards the house. As soon as I do this I completely wipe out on the icy side walk. I’m talking about full out slipping and falling hard on my back, on the concrete and ice. Feeling an intense amount of pain I slowly got up and continued staggering to the house, this next part is still kind of blurry. There’s a convenience store on the corner of Ontario and Hudson called Pine Hills, and it’s basically the pre/post party spot in Albany. I walk in for some reason, I don’t remember, probably to get a sandwich or something and I started talking to this girl. The very next thing I remember is us hooking up outside. Knowing me I probably interpreted “nice meeting you” for “lets hook up” and just moved in for the kiss. The only thing I remember about her was that she had blonde hair, but thinking about the scenario she was probably fat. After that odd yet cool encounter I looked at my phone and had a text from Scope saying they were heading to a bar called the Garage. I know where the place is and started heading over, only to wipe out on the ice yet again.
When I get back up I received another text, this time from Burgundy. The text read, “Are you with Harry? Is he still alive?” I laugh my ass off to this. As soon as I look up I see a Jewfro making its way down the street in front of me. It was undoubtedly Harry, and the kid was fucking wrecked. I catch up to him; he turns around and points to any alley, and motions to follow him there. Once in the alley he mutters keep a look out and proceeds to puke all over this building. It was hilarious and Harry did not remember any of it, fucking hydrogen bomb.
Needless to say we never made it to the bar but went back to 258 instead. We get back there and find the other guys and some of the girls there too. Apparently the girls couldn’t get into the Garage, and Fat covered in dick drawings tried to persuade the bouncer to let the girls in. Obviously this did not work. Back at the house Fat goes to his room and passes the fuck out. After smoking some weed and still feeling the effects of the hydrogen bomb, Burgundy comes up with a genius idea. It was about 5 am so the girls and I began to head back to the dorms. As we are leaving I see Burgundy, Scope, Patrick, and Harry removing everything from Fat’s room. The living room was filled with all of Fat’s stuff, and the guy slept through all of it. Fuck did I wish I was there that morning. I was told the next day that Fat woke up ran into Scope’s room screaming they were robbed only to find all his shit in the living room. I still wonder what the look on his face was like.
In the end the hydrogen bomb got us fucking annihilated and it took all of us to fully piece together the events of that night. I had a giant bump on my head from hitting the concrete so many times, and some other bruises on my elbows. I don’t know if we’ll ever drink hydrogen bombs again, but if we do I’m taking some fucking pictures.
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