We’ve All Been There: Flirting for Drinks
Like every Thursday night (or Monday…or Tuesday…or any day, really), you finish your reading for the night, eat a little dinner and start the pre-party for another night at the bar.
You mix a few drinks before you head out in attempts to get a good buzz going. There is nothing worse than battling a bar crowd completely sober and, hey, 3 drinks at home saves you some serious dough on drinks at the bar.
When you finally make it past the line and the bouncer poring over your (fake) ID at the door, you breathe a sigh of relief, grab your friends and beeline to the bartender. Your friends mosey over to an opening directly in front of you, but you do not take it. Instead you walk to the other side of the bar where there are a few guys waiting for drinks and wedge yourself between them.
You turn on the charm, yank your shirt down to show a little cleavage, bat your eyelashes and strike up a conversation. These guys aren’t cute – far from it – but you aren’t lookin’ for booty. You’re lookin’ for loot. In the form of a Vodka Red Bull.
You talk about classes, you talk about how badly you could use a drink, you complain about how long the bartender is taking, you grab some biceps and gush over how big they are. And between all of that, you make sure to keep that cleavage out there and draw attention to those perfectly glossed lips of yours. It doesn’t take long for one of the (very intoxicated) boys takes a liking to you.
“Want a shot?” he asks.
Of course you want a shot. He orders a round. You cheers with him and his boys and throw that Kamikaze back like a champ. He is impressed. You talk a little more and he orders another round. You take another shot. You are now drunk. Mission accomplished.
You start thinking of an excuse to get away. After all, you got what you came for and now it’s time to move on. You go over your favorite excuses in your head: you could claim you have to go find your friends, or go to the bathroom (“I should have never broken the seal!”), or that you just realized you forgot to let your dog out. You decide to go with the friends and let him know that you’ll be back in a few.
But you don’t go back. Instead you take your drunk ass to the dance floor and shake what your mama gave you to a little “Poker Face.” You are having a great time with the girls when Mr. Kamikaze spots you on the dance floor and makes his way over.
Your friends drag you away to another part of the dance floor but he follows. Then he follows you to the bathroom, to the tables, and back to the bar. You do everything you can to get away from this guy (“My boyfriend is going to be here soon!”), but he just won’t leave you alone. You spend the rest of the night playing hide and seek with the boy until he eventually gets the hint (or the spins) and goes home.
You spend the rest of the evening laughing with your friends and seeking out another guy to fix your now-waning drunkness.
What? This whole college lifestyle gets expensive! You gotta do what you gotta do.
We’ve all been there and there is nothing wrong with being savvy.