Hungry Charley's played a starring role in what might have been the night that I got drunker than I'd ever been--and quite possibly the drunkest I've ever been in my life.
We'd gone to Liquor Square (drinking age was 18 when I went to SU). I bought something called Frooty Wine--first bottle was 99 cents, you got the second bottle for a penny. (I'm not making this up.) So, we're smoking some reefer, quaffing our Frooty, when a couple of friends come in, say it's one of our friends' birthday, let's go to Hungry Charley's.
We drank a pitcher of sangria and two pitchers of dark beer. I'm feeling great. We get back to Lawrinson. My roomie (great guy) had had a first date with a really nice girl, I go in the room, they offer me some champagne, which I accept, I head out to the lounge and--I'm not feeling so great.
I stagger into the kitchenette. Anticipating the inevitable, one of my friends gets me a little trash can. Unfortunately, it was a little trash can where you had to step on the pedal for the lid to pop up. I was totally incapable of executing that maneuver.
Which is all I can remember until I popped awake sometime around 4 am. My white t-shirt was now purple-colored, and all the sheets and blankets were gone--turns out they had been moved to the stairwell.
Also turns out I had puked all over my roomie's and his date's suede jackets. I think I paid for the dry cleaning. I know I meant to.
One thing about Hungry Charley's--you never ran the risk of getting flagged there...