When people are young, there is a deep fascination with going out and getting drunk with your friends. The idea of it seems so fun as you’re getting dressed and putting on your extravagant makeup. But once I step outside in my little mini skirt and top, I almost immediately regret my decision. You subway downtown to the club only to get there and be faced with rude bouncers who won’t even bat an eye if you aren’t hot enough. Then once you finally are granted entry after waiting in an absurdly long line, the club is somehow empty? What makes matters worse is that they’re playing house music and people are standing around bouncing like sims. Then some weird promoter, you’re forced to be friendly with, is handing you a vodka-cran, as if it is the best drink you’ll ever taste. Never have I had a more boring drink. As the club starts filling up with more people you start to convince yourself it will be more fun now. Oh, how wrong assumptions can be. All of a sudden, people can’t seem to stand up straight, and now you’ve got vodka-cran dripping down your legs. It almost makes you miss the bouncing sims.
Monday, Apr 6, 2026
