Monday, August 30, 2010
It is common knowledge that men and alcohol equal rambunctiousness and bar brawls, but I never knew that a group of twenty two year old girls could also experience the type of spike in testosterone that is usually associated with Bros on a Saturday night. About an hour into our night at a pretty fun bar which brilliantly serves free popcorn all night, I noticed Keslee chatting up a pretty cute guy. I stepped behind the guy so that only she could see me and gave her a look and hand motion that indicated that I approved. She caught my eye, blushed and continued to flirt her way towards a free drink.
Turns out this guy deserved no type of approval whatsoever. After being informed by an anonymous bar-stander that Keslee had no interest in him, his charming, nice act went down like the shots he had been taking all night with his equally douchebaggy friends. He began telling our group that “we weren’t that hot anyway” and shouting “shut ups” when we attempted any kind of rebuttal. Typically I would run in the opposite direction of a bar bastard like this guy, but something inside of me and my friends on this particular night inspired us to behave like the tatted up, territorial frat boys we usually roll our eyes at. After giving our pieces of mind, we decided it was time for a grand exit. We clattered towards the stairs and just as I was feeling particularly proud, my black bootied feet failed me, I slipped on something (or nothing) and tumbled down the stairs. The assholes, who had been watching this exit, found this to be the most delightful thing in the entire world. My temporary testosterone rage had subsided at this point and I didn’t even look back as Ginna gathered me off the ground and we booked it, laughing hysterically at the utter ridiculousness of the night.
Posted by Casi at 5:20 PM