Oliva Hext: A Guide to Being Rediculous

I laughed with them as they laughed at me. I had just said one of the stupidest things I have ever said in the history of my life. But at least every one’s laughing. I’m not going to tell you what I said; it’s just so embarrassing! How could one be so naïve? How could I be so naïve?
I didn’t used to be this stupid, I promise. I used t be very bright and shy. I never spoke in class, come to think of it, I still don’t. I only said things or answered questions I absolutely knew they were correct. And I was absolutely mortified about making a fool of myself.
But here I am. Standing in my friend’s basement, making a fool of my self. I hate it but here’s the catch, they are paying attention to me. I’m a Leo! I love attention! Can’t get enough. Come on, everyone wants to be accepted, even you. Go ahead, admit it.
So you are probably still wondering what incredibly un-bright words jutted from my mouth. Well, I guess, for the sake of my argument, I’ll tell you.
Here’s the scene: I’m at my friend Raymond’s house. It’s dingy, dark and looks as if the 60’s (and the present) weren’t good to it. In the living room there are two moth eaten, worse garage sale couches I’ve ever seen, a futon in similar condition, and a fire place, all lit by one floor lamp tilted against the wall. Ah, the college life.
Heading into the kitchen, all the white appliances have turned yellow, like when people drink too much coffee and it stains their teeth. I seriously doubt that coffee is the culprit in this case. I’m lead down a tinny stair well into the basement. Ahead, I can see a tie-dyed Phish banner hanging on the back wall of a room through its open door. A strange purple light bounces off it and I can only imagine what goes on in there… Hang a left and I run smack dab into the furnace. Ouch.
And there, on the other side of the monster furnace, in a six by eight foot room sits a long piece of plywood held up by two dismantled patio chairs. Now these patio chairs were once white, like those appliances in the kitchen, but they’ve seen their fair share of rainstorms and the rust just might reach out and eat me alive! A top the plywood, 22 cups lay strategically as follows: 10 cups on each side in a pyramid, bowling form, filled with beer. The other 2 cups are filled with water.
I’ve seen this set up before but never witnessed it live. Yes my friends, the college sport for everyone that requires no endurance, no training, and no experience, Beer Pong.
Now for those of you who are not in the know, like I am at this very second, I’ll explain. Beer Pong is a game, played usually in teams of two, in which you must toss a ping-pong ball into your opponents cups and they have to drink. Now the amount they drink is entirely up to how you and your partner get the balls into the cups. If one person gets a ball in then the opposing team must drink that cup. If both partners get their balls in then the opposing team must drink both cups. If both partners get their balls into the same cup then three cups must be knocked back. Now you can either throw the ball straight in or you can bounce it on the center of the table. If you successfully get the ball into the cup while bouncing it, the opposing team must drink two cups. But bouncers beware! If you do decide to bounce the opposing team can knock the out of its path after it bounces. Are you still with me? If you are here’s something I’ve never really got a handle on. If the ball is spinning around the inside of a cup and has not yet touched the beer the rule is “Guys can finger, girls can blow.” This is a fantastic game… Now a term might arise called “House Rules”, this obviously mean that all these rules can change and bend according to whose house you are playing at. Ok, so did I miss anything? Oh yes, the two cups of water. Those are used to “clean” the balls after they have been in the cup, on the floor, outside, in someone’s mouth, stuffed in someone’s pocket, or accidentally landed in the potato salad that has been sitting out for hours. And it is oh so sanitary (especially when these “cleaning” cups don’t get changed all night).
OK so moving on. But bare in mind as I do that I didn’t know all this information when I first saw this game being played. I had heard the numerous rumors of this Beer Pong phenomenon but never seen it with my own eyes. All right really, moving on.
So Raymond and Tory are playing against these two already hammered girls who I don’t know and am never introduced to. The game goes on per usual and the boys are killing. Once all the girls’ cups are gone, the boys have four cups left. They divide them evenly amongst themselves and drink.
Ok, I know you are impatient but we are almost to the good part. But first, a thought process: so first I wonder, well who wins? The boys win so shouldn’t the girls have to drink the extra beer. What’s the point in playing the game if you are all going to drink ten cups of beer? Why not just see who can drink ten cups of beer the fastest?
At this point I’m very confused, so I pose the question, “what’s the point in playing if you’re all going to drink the beer?” Which brings us back to the whole them laughing at me and me laughing with them. Apparently the whole point of the game is just to drink beer and get drunk. Who the hell invented this game? But what I really want to know is what is the point of declaring a winner when everyone is apparently the winner. Obviously if you even drink one cup of beer you win! I mean, I’m a very competitive person and I need a set winner and loser. The winner prospers and the loser pays. But I suppose that the loser is the real winner in drinking games.
So this is the life of me, Olivia Hext, the most ridiculous person on the planet. Everyone is always laughing and getting a kick out of me. I didn’t mean to be ridiculous, I just kind of fell into it. I realized that being silly and acting dumb at times got people to notice me and wants to hang out with me. I mean yes sometimes I do want people to take me seriously and respect me as an equal, but I guess that is just asking too much right now. After all what is more important, being liked, or being smart? I want people to like me, but why is it so hared to break out of my closet blonde persona?
I’m not blonde, I’m a redhead, and I’m five foot three with amazing fashion sense and a closet full of cute shoes. I’m very active so I have a great body and all that. My friend must be right when he said one day, you can be pretty and dumb or ugly and smart but you can’t be both.
I guess us pretty girls are just going to have to stick together.