“Mommy, tell me the story of how you met daddy.”
“Honey, I’ve told you a million times. Why do you want to hear it again?”
“Because. I like it.”
“Well, alright.”
“It was the fall of 1984 and I was rushing Chi Omega at UGA (go Dawgs!) One of the
funny things the older girls would do back then is they would blind fold us and drive us
far, far away from campus to a desolate spot in the Appalachian foothills. Then, they’d
give each of us a pocket knife, Slim Jim, some lighter fluid and a box of matches before
waving and driving away! The girl with the least amount of scruples would make it
through the winter as starvation set in and cannibalism presented itself as the only option
for survival. Well, everyone polished off their Slim Jims pretty quick and so it was just a
matter of time before the weaker girls expired and mommy was left with no choice but
to use the flesh of their carcasses as nourishment.”
“And then what happened?”
“Well, just as mommy was running out of food, she saw the unmistakably wonderful
sight of a fraternity party bus cresting the hill. As they loaded my frail and considerably
weakened body into the bus, your father introduced himself to me and offered me a glass
of watermelon punch mixed with Everclear. He tucked my stringy, blood-caked hair
behind my ears and told me it was called, “Hunch Punch” and that it was funny because
he just had a ‘hunch’ about us. And that, as they say, was history!”
Browse Timeline
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Joey Camire
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