Connect with us
Connect with us


The Tragic Rise And Fall Of A UCLA Frat Party Couch

Westwood’s Gayley Avenue is where you see the brightest of UCLA Greek life stumble out of school busses dressed like rave daughters and disappointed fathers. It’s the shit-smelling purgatory between your apartment friends and your hill friends, but it’s most famous for window shopping—the used mattress and couch market subculture thrives here. One day, the brothers of the two shining castles at the corner of Strath and Gayley, Beta Theta Pi and Sigma Nu, stumble across a couch. This is the frat party couch’s story: 

Sept. 27:
A leather couch appears on UCLA’s Free and For Sale Facebook group. It goes days without comments or likes, no “Messaged!” or “Is still still free?” from students. Probably because the couch honestly looks like it belongs in a crime report. Only when Brother Aiden accidentally likes the profile picture of the girl he slept with last night and frantically clicks on the picture to cover his tracks does he take notice. “Hey, dude, we needed a new couch right?” he asks Brother Christopher. And so began the journey of the couch.

Oct. 7, 9 p.m.: 
Drinking, Followed By More Drinking. A bender so big, it gets capital letters. A night so so full of debauchery that few are sober enough the next day to tell the tale. After two weeks of illegal male-female interaction, freshmen’s hormones have reached radioactive levels. It’s a night full of dancing, puking, and fucking—then more dancing and puking and fucking—separating the boys from the men. For a couch, it separates the futons from the sectionals.

Oct. 7, 10:47 p.m.:
The first spill. A pregaming molotov cocktail of Prestige and natty light. Like most of us, the couch is not prepared for it. It anticipates the worst.

Oct. 7, 11:23 p.m.: 
The first crowd rolls in. It is a mixture of loyal second-year groupies, overdressed freshmen, and pledges. Chaos ensues. The right corner of the couch becomes unusable due to spit-up and a mixture of tears, makeup, and jungle juice. Whose spit-up it is remains unclear.

Oct. 7, 11:58 p.m.: 
Disregarding the spit-up, eager freshman Kristin starts twerking on the couch to get the attention of Brother Alex. Her friends join.

Oct. 8, 12:21 a.m.:
Kristin has successfully procured the attention of Brother Alex. The two begin a very “involved” grind-sesh, only to realize that it is difficult without a solid footing. They sit on the couch. Assume straddle.

Oct. 8, 12:36 a.m.: 
Pledge Joseph can’t handle his alcohol. He throws up on the couch as Kristin and Brother Alex dry hump. They remain unphased.

Oct. 8, 12:49 a.m.: 
Fluids. Various fluids.

Oct. 8, 8:56 a.m.: 
The morning after. A pledge is forced to take a blacklight to the new couch. It glows like SAE’s Christmas display. “Get that shit out of here,” Brother Kyle barks, fearing that people would realize it was actually his spit-up, tears, and makeup on the couch.

Oct. 8, 9:19 a.m.:
The couch is moved to the front lawn. Luke from Sig Nu, groggily shuffling to his 9:30 class, notices the free couch. He texts a pledge to go move it to the living room.

Oct. 15 – 10:54 p.m.: 
The couch realizes its destiny. It is just a pawn in the brotherhood of the traveling furniture. Will it ever be cleaned again? Questionable.

Listen to Talk of Shame, a podcast about being young & dumb, hosted by 2 drunk girls from The Black Sheep, Mackenzie & Andrea. One can’t find her tampon, the other one’s laundry is probably on fire. Subscribe to Talk of Shame:

Continue Reading

More from LA

To Top