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Chelsea’s four-step Guide to conquering the OU – Texas Weekend

(Editor's Note: When Chelsea, our young, attractive, affluent, former OU sorority girl contributor asked to write about Texas, I got concerned. Complaining about Landry Jones and OU football is me and Gravy's turf. But then she explained she wanted to write more about the OU - Texas experience, as opposed to the X's and O's of the game. And who better to write about that experience than a young, attractive, affluent, former OU sorority girl. Enjoy!)

The Red River Rivalry game is approaching, a weekend that I fondly refer to as Christmas. Yes, I realize that I graduated college awhile ago. I'm now in that awkward stage where crashing in a double room the Hyatt with twelve of my BFFs is no longer socially acceptable, but forking over the cash for a room at the Hilton Anatole isn't really a financially sound option either. I don't have handy student season tickets anymore, and can't afford the market price of one. I want to hang out on the West End Friday night, but I'm pretty sure most of the people who will be there were born in the 90's. The wicked, agonizing grief I face in this abominable sort of purgatory!

But still, along with every other multi-generational Sooner family from Tulsa, I'll head south down 75 on Friday morning, get a speeding ticket in Stringtown (which still beats sitting in traffic on 35 for five hours), buy a pecan log in Atoka, pay $40 to park my car downtown for the weekend, and begin the blissful mayhem of Dallas weekend.

If you too are making this pilgrimage, here's a few sacred rituals you won't want to miss out on:

The Beginning. There are three places Oklahomans make a mad dash for upon arrival in Dallas--North Park, the Allen Outlets, and the Galleria. Barney's. Urban Outfitters. Zara. Nordstrom's. Neiman Marcus. And oh, IKEA! Prepare to visit every single one of those hallowed retailers with your girlfriend, wife, daughter, or sister. They'll get choked up and giddy just thinking about it. Oklahoma's pretty sweet with our basketball team and nationally ranked Oktoberfest and all, but unless you're into the thing one might find at the Bass Pro Shop, the shopping scene is just impossible to compare. Or maybe I'm just sort of shallow and desperately crave the material things I can't have. That could be it.

That evening, be sure to treat you and your loved ones to a fancy, fancy dinner. Whether this means an animal style double-double at In-N-Out or heaps of game at Texas de Brazil, it's important to nourish your body in the evening to prepare it for the gallons of poison you'll dump into it later that night. Enjoy this meal thoroughly, and feel free to indulge--you'll need you're strength for the hours to come.


Christmas Eve. Right around this time, you'll go back to your hotel room and engage in one of two things: laying in bed watching Pay-Per-View and resting up for the day ahead, or polluting your liver with Texas-strength beer. To be perfectly honest, both of those options sound awesome to me. I've hit that two-drink-hangover ceiling, and it is seriously salting my game.

Around 10:30 or so, you'll leave your temporary home base and venture uptown, because I'm pretty sure they kick you out of the West End district OU/Texas weekend the minute you can legally purchase libations. I'm okay with this, because there's only so many times you can see people get pepper-sprayed and zip-tied (in lieu of handcuffs) and it still remain hilarious. Renfield's, Idle Rich (locals pronounce as "idle-rock, or I've been the butt of a cruel joke), or Black Friar it is. Don't black out too early--you don't want to miss out on the idiot frat boy indiscreetly flashing his newfangled drugs for the world to see, or the equally lackadaisical post-grad purchasing forty-five shots to give to anyone in the immediate vicinity just because he doesn't know what do to with that whole paycheck concept.

Crazy things will happen the Friday night before OU/Texas. You might accidentally make out with someone you once worked on a group project with. You'll probably steal something from the bar you occupied or hotel you're housed at. Your hot co-worker might hit on you, and you will definitely enjoy it. This is the one night of the entire year that you can get away with unabashedly hitting on your college crush, eating food from the buffet at a strip club, or offering the cab driver a hefty premium to ignore the line and pick you instead.

Chug a bottle of water and set your alarm--actually, you better leave your curtains open and request a wake-up call. The morning is always pretty rough.


It's Gameday. If you wake up and your hotel room looks like a Katy Perry video, don't be alarmed. Ignore the overturned table and rogue pizza slices littering your floor--the number one objective of the morning is figuring out how to get to the Texas State Fair. An arduous task, indeed.

There's the DART option, which has it's pros and cons. It's awesome because it's inexpensive and some of the homeless people who forgot what day it is will be friendly and offer you sips of their Four Loko, but in my experience, it's usually too crowded. You could drive, but that requires a wad of cash for parking fees and a whole lot of patience. I suppose your third option, taking a cab, requires these things too. Either way, pick up a Gatorade and some saltines on your way to the fair. Thanks to the inevitable traffic-induced stop-start motion you'll endure (and that extreme hangover), you're insides are going to require something soothing along the way.

The weather will be gorgeous. Hypothetically, we'll play well. You get to enter and exit the stadium freely and snack on all of the corn dogs, fish tacos, and tiny plastic cups of beer that your budget will allow. Half of the crowd will likely stay for the entirety of the game, which is another reason why the Red River Rivalry is awesome. If you can't shake the nausea by halftime, hop on the Tilt-A-Whirl and take the initiative to get that barf that's been lingering over your head all day out-of-the-way. Quietly observe how much more sanitary the food trucks appear to be at this state fair compared to the ones we've grown to love. It's a beautiful day, one you'll cherish forever--granted, Landry doesn't f$%# it up.


The Aftermath. Don't plan anything elaborate for Saturday night, because you'll most likely be too exhausted to even get out of bed and take a shower, much less put on a pair of heels and fight a college-aged crowd. In fact, if your wife, girlfriend, or parents happen to be in Dallas as well, don't rule out driving home right there and then. But alas, there will be those of you who will defy the laws of nature and try to turn a now 24-hour drunken state into a 36-hour binger. I salute you, but this is the stage where I gracefully bow out from the competition. In the last three years, I've managed to cry on the side of the road outside of Renfield's, kick and curse at a um, swarthy girl who had passed out on my luggage, and silently watched as a rollicking band of frat boys broke into a supply closet and emptied out dozens of boxes of Kleenex, effectively "making it snow" on the twelfth floor of the Sheraton hotel. While Friday night is magic, Saturday night is a curse.

Even when we win the game, terrible, awful, unspeakable things might happen on Saturday night. You will break your phone. One of your friends will either cry publicly or get in a fist fight. While everyone you socialized with in college magically finds each other Friday night, Saturday night is always disjointed and hectic. It'll rain Saturday night, it always does. Everyone is on the verge of their body going into toxic shock. Do everyone a favor and maintain your cool, get back to your hotel room before someone in your party wigs out on a Texas fan, and try to get a head-start on the hangover you'll surely battle until at least next Wednesday.

Hug all of your college friends goodbye Sunday morning, stop at In-N-Out for yet another double-double, and hit the road as early as possible. You have promises to keep, and miles to go before you sleep--but take the drive to work on the delivery and perfect comedic timing when you recap (and possibly embellish) this crazy weekend to your co-workers.


Follow Chelsea on Twitter at @xCawoodstock

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