Fight night

I walked into my apartment Saturday night at about 1 a.m. after an evening of fun and adventure and locked the door behind me. Five minutes later, the yelling began. \nApparently, outside my door a fight over the difference between "bros and hos" was happening. During the intense yelling (it sounded more like a Korn song than actual speech), a girl even tried to force her way into my apartment, but the dead bolt lock succeeded in its task. After that, the fun began.\nFor at least two hours, while I sobered up and my roommate left her studying for the next morning, we sat and peered out my upstairs window into the parking lot. Oh, the things we saw. As a result of the three large parties going on in the back building of our apartment complex (there must have been more alcohol there than in the bar of some back street bowling alley), we bore witness to the spectacular events of a drunken night. The parking lot was jammed with cars dropping off and picking up girls in skirts way too short for the winter weather. The honking was like a clown with a blow horn on Ritalin. As the lot froze over, many inebriated persons decided that the "cool" thing to do would be to ice skate without skates. Many fell down. \nJust as I thought the parties were going to break up for the night, the fighting began. The first quasi-fight, which involved some guy named "Leeland" trying to get into another apartment to fight its inhabitants after one of them allegedly hit a girl, resulted in a girl whom he presumably knew throwing a beer bottle at one of their cars. Five minutes later, that same car had its passenger side mirror ripped off in the midst of the final fight of the evening -- an all-out brawl that involved 10 or more people in which one guy had his head slammed into a car bumper. The way some of those haymakers were flying made me think Lenox Lewis wouldn't have stood a chance if caught in the middle. \nSo after viewing these and several other incidents Saturday night, I have drawn this conclusion: If you're drinking, just calm the hell down.\nRemember that at big parties, everyone is just there to have a good time (whatever their definition of a good time might be), and in my experience, it's much better to make love than war. Stop worrying about who slept with your ex-girlfriend's sister's roommate and just chill out. Grab another beer, find a spot on the couch, the dance floor or at the beer pong table, and enjoy yourself. Find a nice girl or guy to talk to and take advantage of your hazy state to take some time and listen for once (or if you're a good listener, to talk until your jaw hurts like you've been punched). \nAbove all else, remember alcohol is not an excuse to act violent. It is an excuse to obtain enough liquid courage to shake it when you don't got it.