Ryder Cup Memories

Justin September 18, 2008 3

Hey, you want to hear my story about the ’99 Ryder Cup?  No?

What if I tell you it has nothing to do with golf, and ends with a drunken Irishman orally satisfying a hot black chick?

That’s what I thought.  Join me after the jump.

One of my roommates at Boston University grew up in Rhode Island. During the summer of 1999, he worked at a yacht club in Newport.  The majority of the summer staff at those places is made up of young Europeans, who take the job as an excuse to spend some time in the US. My roommate became very close with a three people from Ireland, and invited them to stay with us in Boston for a weekend once the school year started. Well, the 1999 Ryder cup was held in nearby Brookline, Massachusetts, so the Irish chose that weekend to come for a visit.

Our three bedroom apartment had a foldout couch in the living room, and a futon in my bedroom. Two of them slept on the couch, and the third bunked up with me. Yes, that was a bit uncomfortable at first, but he was a decent guy, so, whatever. 

Anyway, They went to the Brookline country club friday morning without tickets, and couldn’t get in. So, they decided to watch at a nearby bar instead. Turns out, The Irish can drink. And, if you remember, the European team opened a huge lead on the Americans that first day, so there was reason for them to celebrate.

It was about 8 o’clock when they stumbled back to our apartment, incoherent and with a giant bag of chinese food. The fattest of the three started in on some lo mein, but fell asleep mid-bite. Seriously. He passed out with the chopsticks in his mouth, and the cardboard container balancing precipitously on his lap. That was pretty funny. And he was less trouble asleep, so we weren’t that concerned.

But, remember the guy who was staying in my room? Decent guy, but kind of quiet. Well, hours and hours of drinking turned him into the most gregarious and charming fellow anyone had ever met. It also gave him boundless energy.  So, he and my roommate decided to go out and continue the party and one of our friend’s apartments. I didn’t feel very well, so I stayed home. In fact, I went to bed early.

The next thing I remember is the Irishman drunkenly fumbling to turn off the radio which was on when I fell asleep. I looked at the clock. It was about 2:30. Good for him, I thought, he made it through a whole drunk day and got home safely. Then I heard a second voice. Even better for him, I thought, check out this hot black chick he’s got with him.  In my room. On my futon. While I’m trying to sleep.  But, like I said, I was sick, so I rolled over and fell back to sleep.

BANG! BANG! BANG! What the hell is that?  It sounds like someone is slamming a hammer on the floor of my bedroom.  That’s when I rolled over and looked back at the futon. The first thing I saw was the girl’s foot extended into the air, with her panties hanging off her big toe. Then I saw my buddy the Irishman with his head buried in her lap. Well, actually, it looked like she was giving birth to a 6 foot irishman feet first and the head hadn’t come out yet. Either way, she was enjoying it, and the futon was bouncing furiously.

What do I do? Do I roll over and try to go back to sleep? That’s impossible. Do I at least turn around and give them some privacy? Nope. I’m gonna watch. And I did, with one eye open so they couldn’t tell that I was awake.  Not that they would have noticed me watching.. or if the room had caught fire, for that matter. He was clearly good at what he was doing, because they never moved on to the next step. He finished, and they both passed out.

The next morning, I was awoken again by a strange noise. This time, he had accidentally dropped a hairbrush on the hardwood floor. He saw my eyes open.  “Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to wake you.”

Anyway… The Ryder Cup. It’s golf. You should enjoy it.


  1. King Ing September 18, 2008 at 2:00 pm -


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