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NOTE: STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT. FUNNY AS HELL, BUT EXPLICIT.


I attended the Cal/Stanford hockey game on November 19th and the Cal/Stanford football game on November 20th, 2004. If you were at either of those games, you might have seen me.


The hockey game:

That guy who barged to the front of the 200+ person line to get in and walked through the gates without even a ticket, yelling something about having his own will call booth in the ladies room...that was me.

That guy who took nachos from the girls in front of him, telling them, "You should feel honored that someone as important as me will even eat after you"...that was me.

That guy who goaded the three Asian girls behind him into a huge catfight by telling one that her engagement ring was clearly bigger than the others...that was me.

That guy who, when his friend said "Oh! Catfight!," responded with, "No dude, there aren't anymore cats; they just ate dinner"...that was me.

That guy who peed in an empty water bottle and, after using it to warm his hands, threw it on the ice...that was me.
 

The football game:

That guy tail-gating with people he didn’t know and feeding beers to the ridiculous Cal bear mascot through a tube in his eye…that was me.

That guy who snuck a Camelbak full of vodka into the stadium by using a three-year-old child to hide it…that was me.

That guy screaming at the top of his lungs, threatening to rape and dismember the families of the Stanford football players...that was both me and my buddy DrunkRex.

That guy being escorted out of his seat by four cops in the FIRST quarter...that was just me.

That guy arguing with those same campus cops, giving them a mini-lecture on the finer points of probable cause, defying them to try to illegally search him and threatening a six-figure civil suit if they touched him...that was me.

That guy calling the Head of Campus Security "Lord of The Plastic Badge Boob Squad," and telling the other students at the security check point to not answer questions or produce ID because fake cops can't do anything to you except throw you out of the game if you don't cooperate…that was me.

That guy being immediately escorted out of the stadium after saying this…that was me.

That guy who was stumbling drunk taking pictures with random people who recognized him from a website right outside the stadium and in front of the cops who threw him out...that was me.

That guy who ended up watching the game from Cheapskate Hill (a huge mountain behind the stadium where you can get views of the game that are obstructed by trees), and stealing people's beers because he already lost his wallet…that was me.

That guy who was yelling at the guy who was in AA and four months sober that "rehab was for pussy-ass quitters," and that "it's only alcoholism if you drink alone," and to "act like a fucking man and get off that pussy-ass wagon"…that was me.

That guy who ten minutes later was shot-gunning beers with the formerly four-month sober ex-member of AA, in front of his terrified sponsor...that was me.

That guy who convinced three Japanese girls he was a rich, single doctor with an Asian fetish so that they would give him their sandwich…that was me.

That guy who threw that same sandwich at a dog in front of those girls when he realized it was Tabouli...that was me.

That guy who ran out of beer, and in order to get more convinced two gay guys that he was a former Marine who left the service because he hated George Bush and didn't want to go to war…that was me.

That guy who, after drinking four of their beers, yelled at those same gay guys "I LIED YOU FUCKERS! WHEN I GET BACK TO IRAQ, I'M GOING TO KILL AN EXTRA BABY FOR EACH OF YOU!!"…that was me.

That guy who tried to go directly down Cheapskate Hill instead of walking the long way around, and ended up tumbling the last 50 feet down the hill like he was Cary Elwes in "The Princess Bride"…that was me.

That guy who was so dirty and filthy and disheveled and bleeding at the bottom that a random old lady in a wheelchair and her granddaughter who was pushing her stopped to help him clean off...that was me.

That guy who fell asleep in the vestibule in the Haas B-school waiting for his friends to come out of the game (who were busy storming the field after Cal won)…that was me.

That guy who looked so pathetic and dirty while sleeping in that vestibule that a homeless guy rooting through the trash for cans came over and TOLD HIM WHERE THE LOCAL SHELTER WAS AND GAVE HIM DIRECTIONS HOW TO GET THERE...that was me.

That guy who had to borrow a phone from a traffic cop, who was busy directing cars, to call DrunkRex because he lost his cell at some undetermined point during the day…that was me.

That guy standing on the corner of the stadium looking for his buddy DrunkRex, who had four guys walk up and say, "Tucker Max? Dude, what happened to you?"...that was me.

That guy who, while walking to meet his friends, took a beer from someone's cooler and had to run away when several people started screaming at him…that was me.

That guy at Raleigh's (a Berkeley bar) eating chicken nachos with his hands and caking his mouth in guacamole to the point where the bartender asked him to please wipe his face because other customers were getting sick...that was me.

That guy at Raleigh's kicking the port-a-potty out back and yelling at the girl inside to hurry up because, "Bitch, there is a celebrity out here who needs to piss!"...that was me.

That guy who had to resort to peeing in the alley because the bitch in the port-a-potty decided she was going to stay in there all night because the "fake fucking celebrity" was rude…that was me.

That guy who almost got his ass beat by a crazy cracked out homeless person because he accidentally pissed on his "house"…that was me.

That guy who started the "Take off that red shirt" chant in the middle of the patio and forced some dude to take his red fleece off and stand there in 50 degree weather for an hour, even though he had nothing on underneath...that was actually my buddy DrunkRex. I could care less about the Stanford/Cal rivalry.

That guy who told DrunkRex about the hot Asian girl who came out to meet him, "Find out if she is fucking. If not, get her out of here. We can't be having this 'I just wanted to meet him' shit."...that was me.

That guy who tried to pick up a girl by walking up and saying, "I have never hit a woman in my life, mainly because I am afraid I would like it too much and not want to stop"…that was me.

That guy getting kicked out of the bar after that girl told a bouncer I threatened to hit her…that was me.

That guy at In-n-Out eating three double-doubles and spilling sauce all over his shirt while yelling that the place was a cult and that the employees could read his mind...that was me.

And finally, the asshole who ended up typing this out as he watched SportsCenter alone at 4:30am that night because he doesn't even have the patience to talk to a girl for more than 5 minutes...yeah, that IS me.

Welcome to another day in the life of Tucker Max.



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