Leaving Alcohol on the Table at Last Call

If you know me well you know there are three things I never do on the rare occasion I go to a bar.

  1. Leave alcohol on the table
  2. Reject a drink from an attractive man
  3. Stay until last call

Maybe I just wasn’t feeling like myself that night, perhaps I really am working on raising my standards, but either way on Tuesday night I did all of the above. I woke up on Tuesday morning suffering from a long list of symptoms caused by the thing inside my head causing me to miss my first class and almost skip my second class (thankfully I have friends who are occasionally willing to come over and make sure I’m not dead and assure I leave the house with proper clothing on and my hair brushed). By the time 10pm rolled around I had already wasted away most of my day with sleep, class, Netflix, and dwindling motivation to go to the gym. I was about an hour into being productive when I got a message from a sister asking that someone save her from being “that single girl at the bar”. It had been a hot minute since I had gone out on a Tuesday, and for the second day that week I was craving some semblance of the typical college social life, which ultimately landed me at the bar 2 blocks away just a little after midnight.

When I got there she had luckily found a few attractive men to buy her alcohol and thus several men willing to send some alcohol my direction as well. Unfortunately when you grow up in Wisconsin you learn to hate the taste of cheep beer and when you spend a semester day drinking Whiskey from a coke bottle you get accustomed to a drink a little more ‘college’ then what they serve at the bar. As a result I ended up staying very sober surrounded by several very drunk men vying for my attention (cue me looking for quickest possible escape route). I have certainly gone home with my fair share of intoxicated men, however they all typically are smart enough to know when stupid things cross their mind and hold their tongue instead of just saying what they think (if you want me to go home with you, insulting me is not the place to start).

Guy number 3 was by far the most attractive of the 5, but he shot himself in the foot when he started listing off all of my sisters he knew by name (cool, I know them too, name dropping won’t get you laid). I guess he noticed my lack of enthusiasm in his stalking of my sorority because he then tried to backtrack by telling me all of the negative connotations we have on campus, all of the negative stereotypes he perceives us to have, and how many times he has seen one of my sisters get trashed and not come to her rescue because ‘it was funny’. I never thought the day would come when I was the pretentious bitch at the bar, but I immediately slid my drink across the table, told him that when I ask for a drink with whiskey I mean real whiskey, and that if he was planning on getting laid within my sisterhood he better start making other plans because his reputation was about to proceed him. I stood up from the bar as the bartender yelled last call, grabbed my jacket and my sister, and headed for the door because a fuckboy in a college bar will always just be a fuckboy in a college bar.

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