Summer Bash in Kearney didn’t need advertising.
You just went.
No money. No plan. No place to stay.
I drove out solo with a pillow and sleeping bag in the trunk, figuring I’d find a floor somewhere.
Friday was exactly what you’d expect… drinks, bands, bouncing from house to house with people you hadn’t seen in months.
Saturday was sun, volleyball, Cottonmill, Duggan’s… then right back into it.
By the end of the night, I landed at the Sig Tau house.
No beds left… just floor space in a room with bunk beds and a few of us passed out wherever we fit.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the door opened.
Someone stumbled in.
Closet door.
Shuffling.
Then silence.
Then a zipper.
Then… that sound.
Not a bathroom.
Two seconds later… yelling.
Whoever it was thought they made it to a toilet.
They hadn’t.
They were standing over the bottom bunk.
The guy in that bed woke up to a situation he definitely didn’t sign up for.
The offender?
Totally fine.
The guy in the bunk… not so much.
I checked my watch.
Sun was coming up anyway.
Felt like a good time to leave.
I stepped out onto the porch…
And there it was.
Right in the middle of the Old Lincoln Highway… a full bedroom set.
Bed. Desk. Nightstand. Lamp.
Extension cord running from the house to the median.
And in the bed… a passed out guy wrapped in a sheet.
Like he lived there.
Alpha Phi teddy bear sitting next to him like a chaperone.
Perfectly placed.
Middle of a four-lane road.
I just stood there for a second…
Then walked back to Sig Ep, found a couch, grabbed a couple hours of sleep, and headed home.
Driving down I-80, listening to The Smiths…
Wondering if anyone would actually believe it.
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone.
