Buddy Macatee’s column in today’s edition of Park Cities People includes this gem:
When Harold Henger and I were in early college, one Sunday evening we carried a thermos full of gin, grapefruit juice, and ice up to the balcony, where — aided by an enema hose inserted into the spout of the cooler — we imbibed the elixir until stoned, then made our way somehow to the Dallas Country Club swimming pool, which was draining its water for its Monday scrubbing. When Harold dove into about a foot of water in the shallow end, he broke his nose and lost a tooth.
Really, Buddy? Grapefruit juice? Yuck.
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