Here’s my first account of an idiot teenager living to his namesake.
At our dorms at school, we have people called Department of Public Safety officers, or DPS officers, who work the front desk and check in everyone who comes in the building by swiping their ID. Last night, my friend Jack stumbled up to the DPS officer, highly intoxicated. Instead of giving the officer his ID, he handed over his cell phone. This was the first sign of his stupidity. Then the two had a conversation:
DPS Officer: Do you have your ID?
DPS Officer: Then can you give me your ID number? I’ll just type it into the computer for you.
DPS Officer: Did you just give me your cell phone number?
DPS Officer: Yes you did.
DPS Officer: Okay, well what’s your name?
DPS Officer: Thanks, but I need to know your full name.
Jack: JACK DANIELS!
DPS Officer: Really? You’re talking about the whiskey, aren’t you?
DPS Officer: You can have a seat over there.
Jack sat down, threw up all over himself, and had to go to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. Teenage idiocracy in action. I’ll miss it