Ryan Seacrest (4:25)
It's a story that took place during my freshman year at nyu, when I was living actually only a couple of blocks from here, a few blocks away, 3rd Avenue North Dorm, which is on 3rd Avenue and 11th street, and it's right across from the Lowes theater, which in 1988 was still a crack house, actually. No kidding. Neighborhood's changed. So, you know, I was very excited to come to nyu. I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world. I wanted to be in New York. I was very excited to be studying theater with other people who, you know, who shared this passion and interest. And yet, somehow I still felt lonely and isolated, as I'm sure, you know, a lot of new students must have felt at NYU or any college, like, when they first arrived. And it was very disappointing to me because I, you know, I thought, like, this should feel like home. This should feel like home. And why do I still have these feelings? And I actually grew up very close to the city in Westchester, and, you know, I felt like I was familiar with the city. And why did it feel. Why was I still, you know, feeling these, you know, this sense of. This lack of confidence, maybe this isolation from other people, you know, And I took myself very seriously. I, you know, I was shy. It was hard for me to meet people. And I like to drink. I like to drink a lot more than I do now. And there were several incidents in college where I would drink to blackout status, which I don't know if, you know, blackout, but it means functioning somewhat. Somewhat ambulatory, but completely unaware of your actions and certainly leaves you with no memory the next day of what might have happened. So I would. You know, there were a few incidents where I would. I would wake up the next day with bruises, eyeglasses, crumpled up into a little ball. I would have friends tell me how they had prevented me from entering the subway system through a loose grate in the sidewalk, or how I violently attacked a bunch of Christmas trees outside of a deli for no reason. Couldn't remember any of it. None of it. On this particular night, I was going to a party. This was. Yeah, fall 88. First freshman year, first semester, I went to a party on the Lower east side that a friend of mine was throwing. And this was interesting because she had an apartment and no one had an apartment freshman year. I mean, this seemed very, very adult. Everybody else was living in dorms and, you know, eating cafeteria food. And I went to this party, and I brought a fifth of Jack Daniels, because even though I was 18 years old, I looked 35 as a teenager, and no one ever carded me. I could always buy alcohol. And I remember going to this. Up the twisty tenement staircase and whatever building down on the Lower east side and thinking, like, it just looks so old and cramped and small. I wasn't used to this. I thought I knew New York, but this was. You know, this was new. And, like, was I gonna wind up in a place like this? And, of course, the answer is yes. And still, true to this day, I don't remember much about the party. I. You know, I got drinking pretty fast. I. You know, I remember feeling warm and, like, you know, and chatty and, you know, the level in the bottle just, you know, kept going down and down and down. And eventually it was empty. And I'm pretty certain that no one else had had a sip of it. I think I'd been slugging the whole bottle myself. And I took this as a cue to, you know, wrap things up and go home and, you know, and quit while I was ahead because I'd had a nice time. I was feeling kind of lit. You know, I was warm and, like, feeling good. And I felt good about the party. Like, you know, things had gone well, you know, nothing. Nothing happened. I don't know who I talked to or what it was, you know, but it was. It was fine. It's like, all right, let's get out of here. So. And I remember going down this, you know, the vertiginous stairs, you know, down, you know, out of the building and then out into the cold November night. It was around the holidays, I think. I think it was a holiday party. This was all about probably within 10 or 15 blocks of the dorm. It wasn't very far, and I think it was probably on Houston or, you know, but honestly, it could have happened right outside this theater. Could have been right out in Lafayette. I really don't know. But, you know, a homeless guy was, you know, sitting against the building, and he asked me for some change. And I, you know, immediately started digging into my pockets. I mean, you know, I was high on this cocktail of 15 parts Jack Daniels and one part milk of human kindness. And, you know, I was just, yes, of course, my good man, would be my illimitable pleasure to give you a dime, you know, and this is kind of where the lights go out, you know, I don't know anybody who's ever drunk too much or taken too many drugs knows what I'm talking about. If you haven't done that, good for you. But I can describe it in cinematic terms. What happens there is called a jump cut. Next thing I remember, I was sitting and Ray's Pizza on Third Avenue, still in the neighborhood. Good thing, you know, And I'm sitting in the back at a table and I'm having pizza, and this man is sitting right across the table from me. And I was, I think, pretty much in the middle of telling him my life story. I was getting, you know, some. Just some heavy shit off my chest. And I'm fairly certain that I was openly weeping. I really think I was just like, tears are just pouring down. And I. And I think I don't remember what we were talking about, but I think the crux of the conversation had to do with, you know, my childhood, you know, and feeling sort of alone and, you know, sense of ennui. Growing up in Westchester county and, you know, and, like. And, you know, and then getting sent away to a boarding school in Connecticut before I was really ready to leave home. And I was lonely. And it was, like, in more than three hours, away from my friends and my family, and I was surrounded by people who didn't get me, necessarily. And then, you know, this is just followed by, you know, going to nyu, where, you know, here I am, I'm studying acting at a private university, and I don't even have, you know, I don't even have to pay my student loans, you know, and I probably wouldn't even be able to if I had to. And yet I'm still filled with this feeling of this lack of confidence and, you know, and this Sneaking suspicion that I might not actually be the unique, unusual individual that I suspected I might be. And you know what? In my dating life, what a fucking joke that is. You know, I mean, I don't have a dating. You know, I was still desperately in love with this girl from high school who did not share my feelings and probably never would. And, I mean, fuck love. Fuck it. I mean, fuck it. You gotta be tough in this life. And this guy knew what I meant. This guy knew what I meant. No, I mean, like, he was sitting there and he was so calm and, you know, this serene sort of, like, knowing presence. And I'm almost certain that this guy had seen tougher times than me. I mean, this guy knew what, you know, with the whole not having a home thing. And, you know, I mean, he knew what I meant. And, like. And I just. I trusted him. He seemed wise and resilient, and I thought kind. I thought kind. And before I had a chance to really ponder any of these questions, we have another jump cut. We have a jump cut, except not to another scene. We have a jump cut right to the end of the movie. Like, past the credits, past the. You know, past the funny outtakes at the end. You know, past the NPA rating symbol. I mean, you know, the curtain was down, the lights were up. This was over. I woke up the next day. I was, you know, still in my clothes from the night before, obviously very hungover. And I shared a suite with five other guys. You know, it was like a common room and three bedrooms. And I. You know, I walked out and they looked at me. You know, they looked at me like I had just returned from an alien abduction. I mean, like, they looked at me. You know, they. It was as if I was gonna start speaking in tongues or, you know, burst into flames or something. I mean, they were. They said, like, when I came home the night before that, I was so. I was acting so drunk, they thought I was kidding. I thought I was doing a bad drunk act because I was literally slamming against walls and falling down. I almost drowned in the toilet. My roommate had socked me in the chest because at some point I had passed out and had stopped breathing. So he kind of, like, you know, to get the motor running again, and I walked. I was like, you know, I went to find some breakfast. So I walked out, and I was heading out of the dorm, was walking out of the door of the dorm, and the security guard was like, hey, man, where's your friend? Because I tried to give the homeless.
