One of the worst headaches I’ve ever had in my life. Someone brought some alcohol into the dorm. I can’t remember who but I remember one of the kids drinking it was this bastard I couldn’t stand. He lived in the room next to me. Actually, I didn’t hate him until like the last day of the school year so I shouldn’t introduce him like that.
Let’s call him Frank. Best thing about Frank – to focus on the positive – is he introduced me to John Truby and his album The Communists Are Coming to Kill Us.
He was one of the kids drinking. I didn’t drink that much but I had one of those headaches that make you wish you had a loaded pistol by your bedside to end your misery. It felt as if my skull had cracked open, my brain had started to leak out, and then my skull snapped shut on my brain. I lay there moaning in agony for God only knows how long.
I couldn’t go to the infirmary. What would I say? The commandant’s wife was the nurse. “Hi, um, I have this killer headache because I had some rum tonight. What? Yes, rum. Yes, in the dorm. Oh – that’s against regulations?” I don’t think that would work.
I don’t think anyone got caught but our Tactical Officer (T.O.) knew something had happened because at the end of the hall was a trash can filled with puked up gummy bears. It was horrible. It was all sticky and foul. The guy I mentioned above had projectile vomited this rancid napalm all over his room wall and had to clean it up before anyone discovered it. That’s the origin of the Pollack reference, in case you were wondering.
