I am Bitty McBean. Of the Savannah McBeans! Last month, my Tri-D-Meth sorority sisters at the College of Charleston held a lovely homecoming weekend which I nearly declined as my social life has become an exhausting whirligig, but my younger, big-boned sister, Cornholia, begged me to go. I was one of the most popular and beloved girls in the sorority, which was lucky because, Cornholia, bless her sweet little heart, was kind of a legacy. Anyway, Daddy said he would pay for the trip if I accompanied Cornholia, so how could little Bitty me decline?

We arrived in Charleston on Friday morning, and who should I spy by the airport baggage carousel? Cristi & Michelle! Just the two dearest and sweetest gals you’d ever want to meet, though they have tacked on a few dress sizes since college, poor things.

Now Cornholia and I were going to stay at a lovely Bed and Breakfast in Mt. Pleasant, but Cristi insisted that we join her at her mother’s resort condominium in a nearby "gated community." "It’ll be just like Debs behind Bars!" Michelle declared. I called and canceled our B&B reservations, making Cornholia promise not to tell Daddy the lodgings were free.

Cristi was hosting a regular circus. There was Erica, a dear girl, but secretive. I’ve always felt that something was not right with her. (Judging by her perm, I’d guess she is prone to self-mutilation.) There was also statuesque, athletic, Mamie. Now I’ve always been fond of Mamie, but the airline lost her luggage coming down and I was forced to loan her clothing all weekend! Too bad for me she’d never got that perspiration problem licked. Poor sweet, sweaty, thing.

Finally, and most frightfully, there was Evilina. The minute I laid eyes on her at the condo I knew the weekend would be a drama.

The hijinks began that very afternoon when we all went into town for lunch. We thought fritters might be fun, so Erica suggested "Perry’s Bar & Griddle," a favorite old haunt of hers. Little did I know she possessed an ulterior motive—she was on a man hunt! Erica’s college flame used to be a busboy at Perry’s. (Well, at the time Erica was in college, the boy was in sixth grade.) Sure enough, he was still working at the restaurant. When he caught sight of Erica after so many years a look of panic crossed his face. After all, the temporary restraining order his parents had sworn out on Erica had long since lapsed. He bolted the restaurant, never to be seen again. Erica was not to be consoled, and it frankly put quite a damper on our tour of downtown Charleston later that day.

In the evening we decided to swing by the sorority house just to get a look at the current crop of Tri-d-Meth sisters. (A disappointment, I must say!) Then we got adventurous and wandered out to a nightclub for aperitifs. There were so many young Citadel men out on the town, and the sight of all those crisp navy blazers and even crisper buzz cuts brought back fond, moist memories. I confess to a certain weakness for military boys. Still, I have some decorum. So when we found ourselves in a backroom bar with dozens of drunken recruits circling us like buzzards, I rallied the girls and suggested we leave. Evilina was having none of it! She began flirting shamelessly with a few of the boys in the bar. They were too drunk to focus on her, obviously. If they had they might’ve realized she was old enough to be their mother!

"You girls go on without me, I’ll catch a cab home." Evilina slurred. "I’m gonna have me a high old time tonight." Then she turned to the nearest Citadel boy. "What’s your name, soldier?"

"Cotton Dupuis."

Evilina’s eyes rolled up in her head. "Oh, I do believe that Cotton is king!"
I could see there was no point in babysitting Evie, so the rest of us went home to bed.

I slept fitfully (Cornholia was sharing my bed and she snores, dear thing) I awoke at 7:00 and, quelle supris, there was no sign of Evilina. I got Cristi up, we piled into our rented Bonneville and drove out to the Citadel campus. There she was. Passed out on the lawn in a puddle of Semicid and her own sick. Cristi and I had to chuckle. Just like old times. I thought as we dragged Evie back to the car.