I was at BYU my first week living in good old Taylor Hall and two guys who were on my floor(and from Utah) asked me and my roommate if we wanted to go with them to a party at the U that weekend. I was a very naive 17 year old kid and so I said sure, sounds fun.


Well, we get to the party and it's then I realize that it's a full on kegger at one of the frat houses. The two kids from my dorm start pounding beer like experienced pros but me and my roommate were good Mormon boys who had never touched a drop in our lives so we were holding strong. Soon though, the cute girls and alcohol were too much for my roomie to withstand and he was trying his first beer. Meanwhile I'm the only holdout just wandering around gawking at the partiers like a weirdo.

The night goes on and finally at some odd hour of the morning I get my compatriots out of the party and to the vehicle. The three other Cougs pile in and pass out.

It's up to me to get us home. I've been in Utah about a week and have no idea how to get back to Provo. This is early 90s, so, no cell phone or GPS. I'm driving around downtown trying to find the freeway and I happen upon that underpass thingy near 200 South by the Salt Palace. Somehow in my teenaged brain that seemed like a freeway access, so I must have circled the block five times trying to get on the freeway there.

Finally, after probably an hour of driving aimlessly, I find the 15 and make my way back to BYU. Crawling in bed at 3:00am completely exhausted, I passed out.

Never went to another frat party at the u.