Love is something seldom found throughout a young man’s years in college. The one thing that remains consistent those four to seven years of an undergrad’s life is the love he shares with a cheap, toxic, plastic half gallon. It’s only $10 for you and your boys to have a great night sipping on the finest Taaka, Kamchatka, Karkov, etc. (grape flavored for all you IU Hoosiers reading this). And by sipping I mean vicious pulls to the point of almost throwing up time after time. There was a beaten path directly to the cheap vodka half gallons at our local liquor store. In and out, no more than 3 minutes. When three people get together and throw a total of $4 each on a plastic half gallon and the cheapest chaser – magic happens. What could possibly go wrong?
That night you’re invincible. You’re the man. A few dozen rounds of pass the half will get a man feeling as if he has game like Leon Phelps in the Ladies Man and dance moves like a young, YEAH-ing Usher. Having a party at your place? Perfect. Throwing a half gallon in the middle of a party is equivalent to throwing the bloodiest chum into great white shark infested waters. The equivalent to a Native American Peace pipe …friendships and hookups were kindled from these virtually lethal bottles.
The next morning is a different story. Cue the most depressing Sara McLachlan song, because that is exactly how you feel… Wake up God knows where, with God knows who, and your head feeling as if it were punched by a fully charged up Donkey Kong haymaker in Super Smash Bros. Who would have thought that a little liquid could make you feel this horrible? Either stay tucked in bed all day in your dark, dark room or get to drinking again. Those are the only two options at this state in your life. The choice is yours.
The slim chance the bottle makes it through the night? It’ll be finished the next day… Who cares if it’s tinted red from the fruit punch chaser back wash? It WILL get finished. Think these beauts were just made for shooting? Nay. 60% cheap vodka with whatever mixer you can scrounge has come to be known as a “Big N’ Nasty” and/or a “Ken Stiffy Jr.” When the bottle is gone, what a better way to show that you are a cheap college student than displaying it with a plethora of other empty plastic bottles. You know the plastic half gallon is truly a part of a man’s life when they start using it as currency. “Shit! This parking ticket is going to cost me three bottles of Taaka!” In saying so… This one is to you. You cheap, plastic half gallons. Giving us confidence, dance moves, hazy, blacked out nights, and almost suicidal mornings all wrapped up in that whopping $9.99 price tag. Cheers.
Glass breaks. Plastic will simply bounce off the ground. And after your buddy from across the room unexpectedly chucks the entire half gallon of Taaka your way in hopes that your drunk ass will make the grab of a century, nine times out of ten that bottle is going to fall safely to the ground and the darty continues. If not, the cap breaks, and you spill some. Worst case scenario you go spend 10 bones at a liquor store for a polished new bottle. Regardless, the plastic bottle is just easier. Its ideal.
Like most people, I’m sure, my infatuation with the plastic half gallon started at a startling age. Once McCormicks came out with “The Handle”, it made it all to easy to casually take a pull with no remorse for what was to come. I called those “Angry Shots” – *Taking shots like you’re angry at the bottle as if it were your worst enemy.* You can’t do that with a glass bottle, nor would you want to.
Anything can happen with a plastic half gallon. By the end of the night, it’ll be discolored from the backwash of the chaser, and that’s expected. Either one of your buddies drinks it in a drunken state, or it gets tossed, and you buy another one for $9.99.
I never knew how much I liked half weasels until I had one booze-napped from me. Left under a car at the Lucas Oil BSU – IU football game, I thought it was secure… Leave it to a dusty old, classic Indiana veteran booze hound to sniff it out. The bottomless booze security that we know as a half g was taken just like that in broad daylight. A parent’s worst nightmare. That day the No Booze Left Behind Campaign was born. I grabbed a PBR and acted like everything was ok, while being completely shaken deep down.
Sure drinking beer is amazing in the right setting, but we all like taking short cuts in just about all facets of life, and getting drunk is no different.
Muncie didn’t ban kegs, they were just subtly promoting half gallons which flew off the shelves faster than Turbo Man in Jingle All the Way. It’s vodka country in northeast Indiana, and I’m talking any bottle that ends in a ‘ka is goin down the hatch. Now before you go thinking I need some AA in my life just remember what John Lennon said, “You may say I’m a raging alcoholic booze monster, but I’m not the only one.” Take a look in the mirror guys.
I may not be chasing the half g’s like I once did, but they did play a huge, blurry part of my life at one point. It brings joy and a slight gag to say that a crusty half gallon of vodka most likely tinted orange from girls sandwich-chasing Fanta was the associate mascot of my four years of vacation that we call college. It is still unknown the long term effects that the borderline daily half gallon drinking that became all too casual will amount to seeing as our generation was the first to embark on this journey.