The Misadventures of Rex the Not-so-Good-Ag:

            Howdy Ags, got a little story for ya!  You may have heard of Rock the Good Ag, and the many adventures he’s had around Aggieland and the fine State ofTexas.  You may not have heard of Rex the not-so-good Ag, his more infamous buddy from back in the day.  Well, as Rock’s stories are usually funny and end with a clever punch line, Rex’s stories are more cautionary tales.  Though still funny and worth telling, please learn from Rex’s mistakes and definitely do not try this stuff yourself.

An Aggie Ring, a Train, a Cell Phone, and Rex the not-so-good Ag

            Once upon a time in Aggieland many years ago, Rex was on the Gates of the North having a good ol’ time.  He’d been having a few malted barley pops and at this time there was little bar where you could get the best Flaming Frog’s Ass shots ever made and he’d downed a few of those as well.  By the end of the night Rex was not one hundred percent sober, and at 1 am it was time for him to go home.  Rex was never one to get behind the wheel after drinking, and being as it was so late, and none of his booty calls were answering, he did what any good man would do, and began walking home.  This was Rex’s 5th year at Texas A&M or what he liked to call his “second junior year”.  Rex had moved off campus with some Bonfire Buddies, in Bryan, in a house off Villa Maria, a few blocks from Finfeather.  It wasn’t an extremely long walk, about the equivalent of walking from the Systems building to the West Campus library (which had just been built).

            So there he was at 1:30 a.m, Rex walking down Wellborn road, stumbling his way back home.  Well Rex the not-so-good Ag, was a problem solver; unfortunately for him, he seemed to look for problems.  That night he found a BIG one.  Sitting right between Wellborn and Finfeather was a very long freight train.  Trains go through here all the time, this is nothing new.  However, there was no train overpass at Villa Maria yet and all Rex knew was that some how he was going to have to go around,  go through, or go over that train eventually.  Being the pragmatic Aggie, and not always the brightest, Rex decided to grab this bull by the horns, and go over that train.

            Like an orangutan in a white pearl snap shirt, wranglers and redwings, Rex climbed up on top of the train, using the handy ladder rungs welded to the side of one the nearest box cars.  Once he was on top of the train, Rex in his drunken wisdom decided he liked the view, and felt safer further away from the late night drunk traffic on Wellborn road.  So he used that train like a big steel sidewalk and began making his way north towards home. He was really making up some ground. Rex went from box car to box car where he would jump the little 4-5 foot gap.  Before you knew it he was almost to his street.  However, that was where the streetlights no longer reached the railroad tracks. Visibility was not great, but Rex never let a little darkness bother him.  Like the times before, he reached the end of one box car and jumped for the next one.  Gracefully he flew, but when his feet should’ve hit the steel top of the train car, they just continued to fall into a pitch black abyss, along with the rest of Rex.  Rex thought that he was in free fall forever, when he hit the bottom of the empty coal car, it felt like he’d hit at terminal velocity and rattled out half of his teeth.

            The coal hopper was empty, but it was still covered in coal dust.  Speaking of covered in coal dust, so was Rex from boot tip to buzz cut, Rex was coated black, and he’d dropped his cell phone sometime mid fall.  So there he was, scrambling on his hands and knees trying to find his state of the art Nokia brick phone.  After searching in the dark for what seemed like 10 minutes, Rex found his brick phone, but then realized he’d lost his Aggie ring.  Rex had been at Texas A&M for 5 years, but had just received his ring 2 weeks before.  Amongst all the searching and feeling around in the dark, his ring had fallen off. As he pulled out his phone to use its display for light and began searching for his ring; Rex heard an extremely loud “KA-THUNK”.  The train was moving.  Tears and sweat eroded away little clean rivulets on his cheeks as he scrambled for his ring.  The train rolled on and Rex realized it was taking him back the way he came.  Back towards campus and away from home.  His Nokia was almost dead. The adrenaline in his system hit him with a moment of clarity; he decided he had to make a choice:  Leave the ring and jump or keep searching and end up in Houston, Port Arthur, Galveston, or wherever this train was headed.

            As he pondered the thought of spending another $450 to buy a new ring, an overhead streetlight caught a glint of gold on the floor to his right.  There it was! Rex scooped up his ring, slid it back on his finger, popped his Nokia in his breast pocket and began to try to scramble for the top of the coal hopper.  Those coal cars are about 10-12 feet deep.  The walls were angled about 75 degrees and the coal dust was slick.  It took five or six attempts, but Rex got his technique figured out.  He wedged himself in a corner, stretched out as flat as possible, and used his hands, elbows, knees and toes to inch his way up without sliding back to the bottom.  After an eternity, Rex finally caught hold of the top of the car, pulled himself up, swung a leg over, and sat precariously on the edge.  By this time he has already over University drive, and picking up speed.  The side of the car he was sitting on didn’t have any ladder rungs, and the drop to the grass was about 15-18 feet.  At the speed the train was going, he was looking at a sprained ankle or worse.  It was now or never for Rex.  To reduce the distance he had to fall, he lowered himself over the side of the coal hopper, but as he eased down his breast pocket caught the lip, and his brand new Nokia brick phone plummeted back down into the coal car.

Rex just said, “F%$^ it!”  Then he pushed off from the car with his feet and arms.  Mid air he turned and tucked, then rolled as he hit the grass. And he rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled, until he looked up from the mud and weeds to see Olsen Field.

            Rex got to his feet. Miraculously, he was not hurt. His phone was gone, his clothes were ruined, he was further away from home than when he started, and by then it was 3 a.m.  Cutting through West Campus, he walked home.  Once home he stripped down to his boxers in the front yard where he began hose off.  His buddies were awake; they’d been looking for him since they lost him at Northgate. After explaining what had happen and enduring their laughter, Rex’s roommates and their girlfriends helped him scrub all the coal off his back and other hard-to-reach areas.  Finally, at 5 am Rex got out of the shower, and rolled into the rack.  Battered, bruised, and phoneless, but he was happy to still be in Aggieland and not on that damned old train.

            So remember Ags, if you’re going to party this weekend, don’t be like Rex the not-so-good Ag.  Stick with your friends, designate a driver, drink responsibly, and stay the hell away from the train tracks.  Seriously, if you get caught messing around on or near the train, you will be charged with Criminal Trespass and taken to jail.  Until next time, be safe Aggieland and BTHO OSU!!!

-Adam Knight