Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Closing Time

Not every night out is the best night out, but you always stay a little later at the really good parties. And if you stay late enough, you are often subjected to the final song of the night. And as the song plays you reluctantly drink the last sip of your Natty, pull your friend off the frat boy, and take leave.

First comes the pregame. You prepare yourself for the night you're about to have. You throw everything you own on the floor as you try on outfit after outfit just to end up in the one your roommate suggested in the first place. Your skirt is so short it's having existential crisis and pondering it's existence because it is so mini it's barely there. You start your night off with your favs - getting pumped about the crazy night your about to have and taking plenty of pictures before your makeup melts off and you look like a hot mess. And then you venture out to find the perfect party.

Now you're at the party. You and your girls are sticking together to avoid any unnecessary contact with boys who don't know how to ASK first before attempting to rub their front-side on your back-side - also known as "dancing." You stand in the typical circle and dance around each other until one of you has one too many jello shots and then you just end up dancing ON each other which only interests the boys even more.

Now your at the "what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking" part of the night but you won't actually call it that until the next morning. Right now you think you're making the best decisions of your life. You climb on the table and dance - forgetting all about your invisible skirt, but who cares. You grab that boy who was a 5 earlier but he's clearly an 8 now courtesy of your third cup of jungle juice and let him ask for your number. You might even invite him home for cuddling - just cuddling. 

And the very bittersweet end is near. You know that it's time to go home. Your feet are so sore you can't even feel the pain anymore, your hair is in that messy bun from your 20th trip to the bathroom when you just said "fuck it" and put it up, and that 8 is a foggy 9 and you know that it's time to cuddle with him. And then it plays... "Closing time. One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer..." 

I honestly think that college is like one big, great night out. Freshman year is the pregame when you try to figure out who you are now that you've started this new chapter in your life. You try to find the best friends to spend the next four years with and you put your best foot forward. Sophomore year is the happy first half of the party and you're still learning the ropes. Junior year is the other half of the party when you've finally figured yourself out enough to know that she's boring and so you start to act out a little. And senior year is the the final hour when you realize you've had an amazing time regardless of any mishaps along the way and you're thankful for the memories. And then it plays some more... "Closing time. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here."

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