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I met Alex Liollio during our Freshman year at Clemson University.  When his father introduced us and told me his son enjoyed baseball and ping pong, I immediately knew we’d be friends.  Through my six plus years of knowing Alex, we’ve shared some great times that will neir soon be forgotten.  From the thrills of freshman year, to the crazy roadtrips (by plane, air, and sea, (Charleston Harbor ), to my status as his current roomate, it’s been a pleasure getting to know the man, the myth, the legend that is Alex Liollio.  Of course, this is a roast and no time to get sentimental, so let’s share some stories.  Below is one of my favorites:

Roadtrip to Davenport, Iowa and Chicago, Illinois

In June of 2005 my Dad graduated from an MBA program through the University of Indiana and was having a big get together for friends and family in my hometown of Davenport, IA, a pretty big moment in his life.  At the time I was down in South Carolina, working over the summer and generally biding my time before going back to Clemson University for my Senior Year.  Really wanting to get back home to celebrate, but not wanting to drive the 13 hours it takes to get home, I picked up the phone and dialed.  Enter Alex Liollio.  

I think it was a Monday or Tuesday night when Liollio answered and I told him that I’d be leaving for Iowa/Illinois Thursday after work, only a day or two away.  “Dude, are you serious?” I must have only been five seconds before Liollio uttered those words I’ve heard a thousand times.  “Dude, I’m down.”

After travelling through the night in my Miata, we finally arrived in the Quad Cities at my aunt and uncles house.  I think it was five in the morning and we were feeling the effects of a night of travel.  However, as we would soon experience, this was only the first leg of an epic journey. 

The trip overall was a huge success.  I showed Liollio the lock and dam system on the Mississippi River, miles upon miles of cornfields, to which he was unusually fascinated at how they seemed to ripple like the ocean as we traveled down I-80, and we even attended the Quad City Greek Fest, where I watched in embarrased amuzement as Liollio jumped into a circle of complete strangers and danced to the music of his ancestors.  While in Iowa, we even ventured out to the oldest soda fountain in the United States, situated in a one stoplight Iowa town typical of the midwest.

Well, it happens this fine establishment wasrun by a Greek Family, and as you can imagine it didn’t take Liollio long to introduce himself to the woman behind the counter, who amazingly had operated the soda fountain for over 60 years.  In a turn of events that wasn’tcompletely shocking, Liollio started up a conversation in Greek.  She must have been impressed by his proficiency or enthusiasm because it wasn’t long before Liollio was behind the counter in full “diner atire” fixing the entire meals for myself, my sister, my brother and a couple of his friends who had come along.  The waitress literally MADE him cook and wait on us.  It was classic. 

However, as good as this little story was, it’s not even the best.  As you probably noticed, this article is entitled Davenport, Iowa and CHICAGO, a city I have yet to mention.  Anyway, the weekend was a great success as we toasted my father over glasses of wine and rich food at a classy Italian restaurant called Biaggi’s on Saturday night.  As the the weekend started to wind down I started thinking about the 13 hours we had to drive the next day.  Little did I know other things were on Liollio’s mind.

Before the night was done, Liollio had convinced me that since we had come this far, we might as well travel a little farhter to Chicago.  It was, as he said on our way back…sort of.  “Dude, it’s only 2 hours away, c’mon man.” (well more like 3, but you know Liollio)  Wanting to show my friend a good time I reluctantly agreed, knowing full well that I had to be back at work for a Monday morning shift at the Olive Garden, a slightly less classy Italian restaurant in Anderson, SC. 

As we ventured in Windy City, I don’t think we could have seen more.  (From Navy Pier, to Soldier Field, to Wrigley Field, to the top of the Sears Tower, to the Apple Store on Michigan Ave, it seemed like we saw it all.)  I remeber at one point, as we walked through Millenium Park and past the new age public amphitheatre, we were two of the only white people in a crowd of probably 5,000 rocking out to the Chicago Gospel Choir show.  Of course Liollio fits in with anyone.

As Sunday afternoon turned into Sunday evening, I starting getting a little antsy.  I called work to see if it was possible for anyone to cover my shift in the morning, but there is no money for a server on a Monday morning for a semi-fine dining family establishment, so I didn’t have any takers.  I told them I was in a different time zone at the moment and asked what the punishment would be if I missed or was a little late.  “You should probably show up,” my boss told me.  In restaurant terms that obviously means, “you better be there or don’t bother coming in on Tuesday” so I told Liollio we had to go.  

It was about 9:30 PM and we had both been walking all day and extremely hungry.  I don’t know who’s idea it was but knowing that literally we needed to leave at that current moment to get back in time for work, we decided instead to sit down to a nice meal at Giordano’s Pizza, the best Chicago deep dish around.  Looking back on it now, the pizza was definitely woth it, but at the time I recall being a little nervous.

After paying the bill we were finally out the door by 10:30 PM and out of Chicago by 11 PM.  I had to work at 10:30 AM the next morning and with the time change, this gave us a little over 10 hours to get home, shower and be at work, which actually happened to be thirty minutes further down the road.  It was at this time that I’ve seen dedication like no other. 

Liollio literally made it his mission to get me back in time for work.  “Dude, trust me, you’re getting back in time,” were about the only words I remember throughout the night.  I feel bad because I fell asleep pretty early on in the trip, but by the time I woke up and glanced over to Liollio to ask where we were he had a big grin on his face and said nonshalantly, “Um, we’re about 3 hours away.”  Funny thing was, it was still pitch black outside.  He had driven the six mile stretch through Indiana and Kentucky in a ridiculously fast time.  Literally averaging triple digits.  Through a six hour stretch. 

As we pulled into Clemson, SC it was only 9:30 AM.  I had time to take a shower, shave, drive to work and probably pay a few bills online before the shift started.  To this I am indebted to my good friend Alex Liollio.  Of course, I got fired from the job two weeks later, but that’s a different story.  Here’s to Alex Liollio, a good friend and comrade for life.

Dan Barnes