My 2nd year at Michigan State we had a keg in our apartment, which wasn't unusual. My buddies decide to head out to the bar and we had only killed about half the keg. I stay behind stating that my parents were coming up in the morning and that I thought I'd "straighten up the place". The problem is, we don't want the keg to get warm. 1st offered solution was to hide it under the outside stairs, since it was late November, it was cold out. I, in my infinite wisdom, said it could get stolen and that I'd take care of it.
So I ran to the 7-11, got 4 bags of ice, put the keg in the bathtub, and turned on the water. After watching for about 45 seconds, I was bored, so I moved into the front room to wait for the tub to fill a bit. Then I saw that the TV was on...so I sat down....and watched a program.....and then another.
Then I heard a faint clanging sound coming from somewhere in the apartment. Then I realized I quite possibly had a bad situation on my hands. I jumped up and tried to run down the hallway, I tried because there was about an inch of standing water there. I looked up and confirmed that the keg was, in fact, doing an ocean bouy impersonation as it happily bobbed about while water cascaded over the side of the tub.
By now I had gained some traction, which was good and bad. Good because I was able to get to the bathroom, bad because once I got to the tile floor, I ceased to have said traction. The pain was'nt much at first, but rapidly began to sink in. So in hind sight, it's a Good thing I was already in a tub of ice-cold water. That should bring the swelling down in my knees because only nanoseconds earlier they had helped stop my progess through the bathroom as they slammed into the side of the tub.
I managed to get the water off, get out of the tub and started to survey the damage. Water all the way up the hallway, water filled my bedroom, and water had somehow managed to seep under the walls into the laundry room. My only saving grace was the fact we had a garden level apartment, otherwise, it would've been a scene right out of the movie, The Money Pit.
No car, so I had to wait for one of the guys to get home. First guy through the door was Bubba, who knew something was up when his shoes made a squishy sound that doesn't normally happen when you come through the front door. He takes one look at me soaking wet, see's the keg and says, "Jesus Christ, not again, here's the keys" without much emotion but tinged with a hint of tension.
I rent a wet vac and I proceed to vacumn up roughly 40 gallons of water out of the carpeting.
Here's the final insult to injury, in my haste to get on with the water sucking, I left Bubba's car in a no parking zone in front of the apartment, forgot about it and it was towed that night. I'm still recovering from the beating...
