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Short Story – Lolita Photo credit: danielito from morguefile.com
A new person had appeared in their colony and for Arjun who was always looking for change, she became the subject of close scrutiny and wide speculation. The usual questions of who, from where, went around in the neighborhood, but no one would go forward to speak to her.
Every morning when I left for school, when all the neighborhood was awake with men going to work, children to school and women washing clothes or vessels outside their doors, her door would be shut. In the afternoon when I would come back, which I hated because these eight years of my life had given me enough reasons not to return. Nevertheless I always came back because I knew my mother was waiting for me, afternoons were the only times that we could sit together and talk, I would tell her all what happened in school that day and she would patiently listen to me and after lunch she would go for her work.
Today when I returned I saw the new lady having a big fight with her immediate neighbor, I went forward to see what was happening, “You bas*ard, better tell your wife not to wash your dirty clothes outside my door, you understand?” she was shouting.
The man with an angry face went inside his house and closed the door, then I could only hear the screams of his wife, which was very common in all the houses, so I came home constantly thinking of the new lady. My mother was waiting for me, I told her about the fight while eating lunch, she didn’t speak to me because she couldn’t, today her face was bruised. After the lunch she gave me a hug and went for her work. I was alone at home and could not stop thinking of the new lady, her fierceness, her arrogance, her anger, she was different, different from all the women in the neighborhood, different from my mother.
After some time I went out to play cricket with the other boys. I was famous for my batting, I would hit the ball so hard, it was six most times and four the others. I loved the game, hitting the ball with all my might, the ball reminded me of my father and I would hit it harder. While playing I saw her, she was looking at me and gave me an impressed paan smile. I turned my head away and continued playing, she sat there for a long time looking at us. My mother came back and called me home, the day was over for me. I went home and sat in a corner beside her. She was doing her work. For every small noise from outside both of us would look at the door.
When I was having my dinner he came in, holding first the door and then whatever he could find to support himself. I looked at my mother, she told me to eat fast and go to sleep. He came and sat beside me. Now my mother was constantly looking at his movements and I was trying to swallow the food fast, at last I got up.
“Are you giving me food yourself or should I make you do that?” he shouted glaring at her.
Mother hastily served him. By this time I was on my mat, my head covered with the blanket I had. After some time I slept and he was still having his meal.
Next morning I got up between his snores, mother was washing clothes outside. In an hour I was out of the house for school and as always the new lady’s door was closed. When I returned she was sitting at her door, I went home and had lunch with my mother. After she left, I went out, the new lady was still sitting at her door. I went to her and asked, “What is your name?”
“Come in I’ll tell you”, she said. I hesitantly followed her inside.
“Sit here”. She pointed towards a small chair.
“But what is your name?” I was getting nervous; I decided that as soon as she tells me her name I would run outside.
“You’ll have some sweets?” Before I could answer she brought me some. Sitting beside me she answered my question,
“My name is Lolita and what is your name?” I took one sweet ate it at my own leisure and then answered her, “Arjun”. She just laughed.
“What does bas*ard mean?” I asked her at last.
“Yesterday you called your neighbor a bas*ard and then he did not fight with you”.
“Oh, bas*ard means a bad man, a very bad man. Anyways you want to watch T.V.? ”, she asked me. I nodded in the positive and she put it on. I saw ‘ Sholay’ , the whole movie and I loved it.
In the evening when I heard my mother calling out my name I got up, when I reached the door she asked. “Hey, will you come tomorrow?” I smiled and ran to my mother.
Next day after my mother left for her work I went to Lolita. “What movie do you want to watch today?” she asked me.
“Amitabh Bachchan’s I love all his movies.” I quickly replied.
“Because he beats up all the gundas and drunkards.”
Smiling she put up ‘ Deewar’ and sat beside me with a plate of sweets. I smiled and we both sat together and enjoyed the movie.
When I returned home my father had already come and was beating my mother for money, “You bi*ch you are not worth anything you know!”
He was shouting and hitting her simultaneously. With all my courage I went towards him, “You are a bas*ard!!!”
I shouted and ran outside. I came back late in the night, he was snoring, I went straight to bed.
Now all my afternoons were spent with Lolita. We would watch movies, play games or talk. It was very easy to be around her, I did not have to look at the door or sit in one corner. I was free here.
One afternoon I came to her beaten.
“Hey, what happened to you?” she asked me looking at the bruises.
“They told that you keep all the men under your control. I said that you are atleast better than the mothers who can’t even control their husbands, at this they got angry and beat me up”.
“What did you tell your mother about this?”
“I told her I fell down in school. She will feel bad if I tell her the truth”.
“And my sweets?” She smiled and gave me some. In the evening I did not hear mother calling me, but I knew that she must have returned home, so I left for her. She had returned but did not look at me when I entered,
“Why didn’t you call me today?” I asked her.
“Where do you go in the afternoons?” she looked angry.
“And what do you do there?” she was getting angrier.
“I watch movies and play with her.”
“Arjun listen and listen carefully, you will not go to her anymore and don’t imagine I will not know if you meet her, those boys will tell me again. Ok?”
“No, I will go to her. She is very good, I like to be with her”, now I was getting angry too.
“She’s a prostitute, the bi*ch sleeps with all the men in the neighborhood you understand that and understand one more thing you are not seeing her anymore let alone meeting her and if you don’t obey me I will lock you in the house and go for work ok?”
By now I was crying bitterly and I did not stop till night, I went to sleep without food and made my decision. I will leave this house; I will get up early in the morning before mother wakes up and go to Lolita. It is not my fault if mother wants to live like this, she does not want to change and moreover wants me also to continue live like these past eight years. I will leave this house, I will leave her.
Next morning I got up, mother was sleeping and he was not in the house. I slowly got up, opened the door and went out. No one was around, all were sleeping. I knocked at her door, no reply, she must be sleeping. I sat outside the door. After some time the door opened but it was someone else who opened it, a man. I got scared and hid behind the outside of the door. “You know you are better than that bi*ch”, he was saying.
“Then why don’t you come here often?” it was Lolita’s voice.
“Oh you charge high and you don’t know how difficult it is to remove money from her.” And both started laughing. The man came out. And I saw my father going towards my house. Lolita closed the door shut, she had still not seen me.
I could not understand what was going on. In an impulse I got up banged at her door. She opened it.
“YOU ARE A BAS*ARD!!!” I yelled at her and ran to my house, came to my mother, slept beside her, hugged her tightly and cried.
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Here Are The Best Underage Stories You Submitted
PSU news by
Penn State's student blog
Last week, we asked for your best stories from getting cited with underage drinking , and you did not let us down. We received dozens of stories, including some from alumni, ranging from sad coincidences that landed students in trouble, to raucous nights that clearly went awry. We picked our favorites, and we are happy to be able to share them with you.
I don’t know how I got there, but I was woken up by the University Park Police as I was sitting in the second row of 100 Thomas. The best part was that I had gone back to Pennypacker to get my backpack and class materials.
The real question here is, did you get attendance points?
I was tailgating two years ago at the UMass game. I only had a few drinks because others had told me stories about how many cops are out during football games. As the morning turned to afternoon, I still hadn’t seen a cop so I decided to grab a beer. I had no problems, finished a few beers, and after, my friends and I were about to walk to the stadium. On our way over, my friend had a beer in her hand and she saw a puppy, so she gave the beer to me. Within 30 seconds I heard “can I see your ID,” and almost died inside. I tried to explain to the cop that it was my friend’s beer (who was 21) and that she was having me hold it while she was petting a puppy. My friend tried pleading to the cop as well, but long story short, I received an underage, and was told by the cop that if I want to lie to get out of something, I need to come up with a more believable story. As he walked away he stepped in a pile of crap the puppy left behind.
Was the poop there on purpose as some cool form of pet justice? Probably not. Am I going to believe that anyway? Absolutely.
It was late August 2003 and my parents had dropped me off as a freshman two days prior. We were out drinking Carlo Rossi jug wine with an older friend of mine from home who was in a frat. As we stopped at College Pizza for my first late night drunken slice as a 17-year old college student, I realized I really had to use the bathroom. Seeing how long the line was, I decided to take some back stairwell up to what I thought was the safety of the back of the building. Without a care in the world, I unleash the contents of my bladder on the side of the building (which I now realize is just an empty lot that opens up right onto Locust). I turned around when I was all finished and there were two cop cars boxing me in. I did not realize the gravity of the situation, or the seriousness with which the State College Police took underage drinking/public urination, until the cops called my parents at 3:30 a.m. since I was only 17. I still have the summons stowed away for safe keeping — and my family still makes public urination jokes to this day. God bless that town.
I guess you could say he really “pissed” off the police.
I went home for the weekend and came back Saturday night to go to this big party. I got back to State College around 10:30 and realized I needed to catch up before I went to the party so I took three shots (background info: I’m a lightweight who used to black out at four shots). When I finally got to the party, my friend made the whole party all take three shots together. That’s when the night got blurry. I know I had some more jungle juice and then the next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital. I woke up in a hospital bed, naked, with an IV in my arm. I was still completely hammered and had no idea what was going on. I thought the fact that I was in the hospital was the funniest thing ever and the thought of an underage didn’t even cross my mind. I took a cab ride home and later received a call from the campus police. I had to go down to the station and the cop told me all about my night. Apparently I was wandering around near Blue Course Drive and ended up hanging out in some field. The cop saw me and asked me where I lived and I told him West Halls (even though I lived off-campus) so he graciously took me there. When we got to West he asked me where we were and I responded “in the middle of Pugh Street” and then he called an ambulance for me. With a BAC of 0.28 it’s really great I survived with only an underage and more than $1000 in fees.
The saddest part of this, for me at least, is that all this person had to do to avoid an underage was know his/her own address. So close, yet so far.
I was walking back after a night of getting totally wasted at the frats on campus, when this a**hole cop wrote me up for no reason. At least that’s what I thought. As it turns out, I had stopped a traffic cop, stolen his vest and baton, and was directing traffic in the middle of College Ave at 2 a.m. There was an underage and a ticket that said ‘directing traffic while intoxicated.’
And they say college doesn’t adequately prepare you for your future job.
1) Got absolutely sloshed at my fraternity before the Ohio State football game in 2014.
2) Left the house around noon to go to my parents’ tailgate.
3) Kept slamming fireball until about 1 p.m.
4) Apparently, I went to the porta potty to let my innards loose and a cop saw me and approached me to make sure everything was alright.
5) I told him I was “f***** fine” and stumbled away.
6) He came back with his assistant cops and they cuffed my sorry ass.
7) Parents hated me for about two months because I threw up on Grandma Josephine apparently when she told me I needed to take a nap.
8) Here we are today!!
Freshman year I had a biology lab and my friends wanted to drink after. It was a Tuesday, but I was trying to live college to the fullest. I went from my lab to drink with my friends, and the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital with my brother and roommate by my side. I was unconscious for about seven hours. I later found out I was hypoglycemic and my body was shutting down because I didn’t eat. An officer gave me an underage when the ambulance was called. My mom thought I had a drinking problem for a while because this all happened on a Tuesday, but I learned my lesson. Now I always eat before drinking because I never want to wake up in a diaper again.
There are so many bad jokes I could make about the irony of having a medical condition you don’t know about, and only finding out because of non-biology related events after a biology class, but I can’t seem to find the right one.
Early freshman year, I made it all the way from the frats to East by myself, very drunk. I got so excited that I navigated my way home that I physically jumped for joy, straight into a stop sign. As in, I literally smacked my head into a stop sign and fell down directly next to a cop. Ninety days later, with my license ban coming to a close, my friends threw me somewhat of a mocking “congrats you can drive again, you moron” party. That night I stole a bike from a frat and got pulled over by a cop. You guessed it. BUI.
This person may have been just a bit too excited to drive again.
This underage is a two-part story here. It was LEAP 2014; I had just come home from a picnic hosted by my local Alumni Association and I returned to Penn State with a trunk full of enough liquor for me and my 10 buddies. That night I mixed 100 proof Mr. Boston straight into one gallon of Hawaiian Punch, had a few drinks, and the next thing I remember, I’m at a party, though I don’t know what party. I don’t know how long we were there but then we were sitting at Canyon and I was begging my friends to get me water; they gave me raspberry tea and my nausea increased exponentially. We’re walking back to our dorm rooms now on Beaver Ave., and I start throwing up in the bushes at Cedarbrook just as a cop drives by. The cop then goes in reverse and he’s pushing me into the curb. His partner and he decide that if I can stop throwing up, they’ll let me go back to campus with my friends without getting an underage. I keep drinking my water, and keep throwing up, so they call an ambulance and do a breathalyzer test — I blew a 0.156. They end up sending me back to my friends dorm where I had to sleep (P.S. Reid, I pissed myself on your blanket but Mark threw it in the wash so you wouldn’t know).
Fast forward two weeks. My desire to drink and go out has returned. My buddy Mark and I break out the bottle we had been looking forward to since I bought the liquor — Everclear. I have no idea how much I drank, but I ended up crying at one point during the pre-game. Mark and I go to the Collegian because we knew of a kid who had a sweet setup and we had friends there all the time. We walked out the door, and I blacked out. (The rest of this story is what Mark told me the next day). Mark and I got to the party and I continued to drink and whenever someone tried to talk to me I found it necessary to finish my entire cup before I could speak to them. I then proposed to Mark (neither of us are gay) and when he said no I threw a freaking tantrum in the middle of the dance floor, like a 3-year-old, so they kicked us out. Mark took me across the street to a parking garage where I started throwing up and wouldn’t stop. He called the rest of my buddies and they decided to call an ambulance. The cops show up and it’s THE SAME FUCKING COPS FROM MY FIRST GOD DAMN UNDERAGE TWO WEEKS AGO. They stepped out of the car, looked at me, and the first words that came out of one of their mouths were, “not this douchebag again.” They’re flipping through my wallet trying to find my ID; passed my student ID, learners permit, junior license, fake ID, motorcycle permit, regular license (luckily, through their confusion I still have that fake ID). I wake up the next morning in the hospital with buttons and wires connected to me, I’m stark nude and there’s a tube taped to my foot because I stopped breathing in the night. I had a 0.251 when I came in.
All I want is for Mark and Reid, whomever they may be, to see this story.
On Friday night of Halloweekend, I accidentally drank an entire fifth of tequila by myself in about 45 minutes. I then proceeded to run to the nearby white loop stop, throw up everywhere, and have the police called on me. I woke up in the hospital at 8 a.m. the next morning confused as hell, then made a friend in the same hospital room as me who had apparently shit her pants the night before because she was so drunk. When we were released we were still drunk, so I was singing and dancing in the hospital lobby while waiting for the taxi to take us back to our dorms. When it arrived, we went outside (in our oversized scrubs and diapers the hospital put us in) and I puked all over the hospital driveway and left. Once I got back to my dorm room, I saw the empty bottle of tequila on my desk and puked again. According to the detective who later met with me, I had to be hauled into an ambulance by five people because I was trying to run away screaming, “I am MEGAN!” When I got into the ambulance, however, I projectile vomited in the ambulance the whole way to Mount Nittany Medical Center, so much so that I got it on the roof of the ambulance, all the walls, and drenched one of the EMTs in my puke. I ultimately put the ambulance out of service because I had left it in such disarray. At this point in hearing about what I had done, the detective took off his glasses, looked at me sternly, and said, “Young lady, in all my years here at this university, I have NEVER seen someone put an ambulance out of service for the amount of puke that was i
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