During my first few years of college, I spent my summers working at a resort.  It was good administrative experience and the night life was amazing.  Also, because I was well under 21, it helped that most of the bars didn’t card (and the bartenders were amenable to some flirtation and tipping in lieu of my ID).  My days were spent hanging out in an air conditioned office while my friends and coworkers slaved away in ridiculously hot restaurants and golf courses.  My nights were spent at aforementioned bars (and anywhere else there was alcohol).

It just so happened that my second summer of resort work commenced shortly before my 19th birthday.  This meant a weekend of awesomeness (especially because the tourist season hadn’t really started yet and we were all bored and ready to party).  My birthday started nicely enough, with trips to the ice cream store and a picnic on the beach with my friends.  Later that night we spruced up and headed out to the bar with my favorite bartender, where we all agreed we would be celebrating my 22nd birthday (we picked my 22nd because the summer before I was drinking in the bars and was considered at least 21…obvs). Read More »