Time to get a little fancier with your cocktails.
"If dudes could stop trying to kiss our female bartender's hands that would be great."
*immediately downloads*
Cheers! Proost! Salud!
One Smelly Pirate Hooker cocktail, please.
While talking to a guy: “Ugh, I’m just so sober…” “Oh here, let me buy you a drink.” “Aw, thank you!”
"I'll have a beer." There are many, many types of beer.
Everyone remembers their first time at a bar. Whether they were 17 with a fake ID, or they actually waited until they turned 21, it's relatively exciting experience. It's like when you don't have to sit at the children's table for holiday dinners anymore -- you finally get to play with the big kids.
L-E-G-A-L. That precious, five letter word will change your life forever.
If there’s one thing we all know (but often try to deny), it’s that college is basically it’s own little universe. It’s that beer-drinking, bar-hopping, Cliff Notes-reading, coffee-chugging “safe haven” between the comfort of your parents’ home and that place everybody calls “the real world.” And unfortunately, we all know that “real world” is much less exciting than MTV moguls would like us to believe.
If there’s one thing we all know (but often try to deny), it's that college is basically it’s own little universe. It's that beer-drinking, bar-hopping, Cliff Notes-reading, coffee-chugging "safe haven" between the comfort of your parents' home and that place everybody calls "the real world."
Your hair is done, your makeup is on and your outfit is perfect. All you have to do is pack that wristlet and you’re ready to head out with your friends. Money? Check. ID? Check. Camera? Check. Before you leave, you mix a few drinks and have a mini-dance party with the girls. Two rum and Diets and a few old school Britney songs later, it’s time to head out. But not without a “SELFIE!!”
It might be your roommate’s birthday, or your birthday, or just another Saturday night on campus. Either way, you are currently standing in front of your over-stuffed closet in a towel with wet hair dripping down your back. You’ve got your pre-party mix blasting from your laptop as you scan your closet for something to wear.
In a college world where (shocker!) people drink and hook-up on a regular basis, it's always a lovely gift in disguise to have a wingwoman by your side who supports you, sets you up for success, and is your personal cheerleader.
Common wisdom should tell you that movies and clubs are great places to take a first date. don't take your first date to any of the following places. But sometimes where you are and what you're doing plays a key role in whether things go well or not. However if you want to start a potential relationship off on the right foot, don't take your date to any of the following places.
College football season is officially under way, and whether or not you actually know anything about the sport, the fact is watching the games and rooting for your school is part of the college experience and a great way to socialize.
I’ve done it all. I’ve been to clubs, bars, frat parties, porches...you name it, I've been drunk there. And my favorite of all party scenes? The infamous house party.
So it's Friday. (Or Thursday, Saturday, or Tuesday....) You've got your favorite skinny jeans on, you stuffed your feet into a pair of heels that start rubbing on your baby toes before you even leave the house, and you're sipping on a little vodka/Crystal Light to get the night going.
Giving up my nights out was not something I was especially prepared to do when I started scouring my college town for a job; who wants to be folding clothes amidst an asthma-inducing Abercrombie cologne cloud late into the evening when your girls are out at $1 pitcher night? Nobody.
A few weeks ago, when my alarm went off at 6:30 in the morning (after hitting snooze at least four times), I rolled out of bed feeling like the very definition of a hot mess. My hair was stuck to my cheek, I reeked of alcohol, and my head was pounding. I stumbled into the bathroom, convinced I was still a little drunk, looked in the mirror, and thought about the 12-hour day I had ahead of me.
There comes a time in every young woman's life when she looks at her roommate laying on the bathroom floor at the bar and says to herself "it's time to take her to the hospital home." Of course there were signs all night that it wasn't going to end well. Such as when she went outside to boot and rally.
Last weekend I went to my friend's birthday at one of those exclusive NYC clubs where you can't get in if you're not on a list. My friends and I got decked out for a big night on the town, which meant I put on a really short dress, slipped on my big practically-unwalkable heels, and shaved my legs.
Remember those nights when you spent 5+ hours talking on the phone with your girlfriends about what your man friend was trying to tell you when he texted you, "Good Night" with a winky face? Well ladies, you're not alone. A recent study has shown that men actually over-analyze and get more emotional about relationships than women do!
I was feeling a little rebellious this past weekend, a little adventurous. So, I took a challenge and stepped out of my comfort zone by reacquainting myself with my freshman year of college. No, I didn't make out with a dude on a futon, and no I didn't burn my Easy-Mac in the microwave and induce a 4:30 AM fire alarm. I went to a house party.
This week, the last bar in State College (that’s the town where the main campus of Penn State is – the name confused me for a while too) to hold out on the 21st birthday tradition of doing way too many shots decided to amend it’s stance and stop serving shots to new 21 year-olds. All of the bars in State College now abide by this policy – you can still get beer or mixed drinks, just no shots...
Sometimes being a girl sucks. High heels hurt, cramps hurt, bikini waxes hurt (like a bitch), hell, even skinny jeans hurt. But all that is worth it for one simple reason: free drinks.
It's only halfway through the semester, Spring Break can't come soon enough and the stress of midterms is really starting to get you down. What could make you feel better on a particularly stressful day than getting your drink on before dinnertime? Yes, I'm talking about everyone's favorite time of day: happy hour.
(Girl, complaining in the student union lounge.) Girl: I used to like Gaga, you know, back when I thought she was a hermaphrodite. Like, I'd watch her, and I'd be like "yeah, this is good, I like this," but I was always on my toes. Because you never know when something might just - pop out! It was exciting.
Giving up my nights out was not something I was especially prepared to do when I started scouring my college town for a job; who wants to be folding clothes amidst an asthma-inducing Abercrombie cologne cloud late into the evening when your girls are out at $1 pitcher night? Nobody. That's why I became a cocktail waitress.
Let's be honest: drinking is fun. So fun, in fact, you're probably nursing a hangover right now so you can get the party started again in a few short hours. Everything is just so much more exciting when you've got a couple vodka sodas in your (carb-loaded) belly. Songs are better. Food tastes better. The weirdo guys from your Poli Sci class look better.
Family obligations are over (phew) and your resolution/diet technically doesn't start 'til January 2nd (when you've fully recovered from all the binging). So it's time to cut loose and ring in 2010 with a bang.
It was a typical Saturday night: I got my drink on with my girlfriends at the bar followed immediately by late night pizza at Hungry Howies. Everything was going smoothly - I ordered my cheese sticks, grabbed a bottle of water and sat down to dig in - when a group of very drunk townies walked in. They were loud, obnoxious, and had some of the fakest blonde hair I'd ever seen.
Thanksgiving is a-comin’, ladies! Time for some turkey, stuffing (my absolute favorite treat on earth) and reuniting with all your old home friends. Oh, and hopefully a major shopping spree with mom. Is there any other reason to come home?
A couple of days ago three bars at Penn State were fined for “lack of alcohol training.” What?! What exactly were those bartenders doing wrong to piss off the authorities? How hard is it to open a bottle of Bud Light or mix vodka and tonic together?
