Any normal person would have gone home after working an eight-hour shift. A sane person would have known better than to stay out late drinking on a Tuesday, especially when you’re congested and tired.
But I’m not like most people. I’m the kind of girl who drinks too much Guinness, stays out too late and flirts with boys she shouldn’t. (Actually most girls are probably like this, but my mother would like to pretend otherwise.)
I’m the kind of girl who loves bars. I love everything about them, from the sticky floors to the long lines. The last time I went to a bar I was a 21-year-old college student. Whitney was still my best friend, Adam was still my roommate and hot prof was still the object of my affection.
I was in dire need of a drink.
So my bff Sam (I blogged about her before) and I went to the Fox and Hound for $2 draft night. Even though I’ve lived in central Ohio my whole life, I’ve never gone to one of the region’s many bars. Central Ohioans are a whole different breed. As soon as I walked in to Fox and Hound I wanted to say, “Toto we’re not at Glory Days anymore.” I’m used to college kids who order nothing but pitchers of Bud. I’m used to the same bartenders, the same familiar faces, the same booths, the same floors covered in peanut shells. There were lots of college kids drinking at Fox and Hound, but not my college kids. Not my college bar.
It didn’t help that I was with Sam. She’s one of those girls who attracts guys like crack attracts Lindsay Lohan. Exhibit A: Sam’s bar outfit consisted of blue tank top, denim mini skirt, flip flops and a Coach clutch. My bar outfit consisted of black skinny jeans, Converses, a vintage T-shirt, slouchy cardigan and a tote bag with Stephen Colbert’s face on it.
As we drink our beers, we talk about our usual subjects: jobs, boys and our hometown. When Sam goes to order another beer I scope out the surroundings. The bartenders are wearing corsets that make my back hurt just looking at them. The guys around us are acting like extras on the “Jersey Shore.” There are lots of palm slaps and fist bumps. Everyone seems to know everyone. Sam comes back. After a quick hair flip, she sits down and tells me I need a boyfriend so we can double date. I roll my eyes and we continue our conversation. Well, mostly Sam talks and I laugh.
Sam (talking about her friend Tyler): I liked his personality.
Me: After his rock hard abs?
Sam: Yes.
Sam (talking about an old fling): I would have had a good life if I had chosen him.
Me: The Jew?
Sam: Yeah.
Me: Why?
Sam: He’s rich.
Sam (talking about her old roommate’s boyfriend): I wouldn’t want to undress that.
Sam (talking about another old fling): It was like day sex.
More laughing, drinking and overall good times ensue. And then we meet Beau and Jake. Beau is totally smitten with Sam. He talks. Sam flirts. He leans in. She leans in. Then I realize Jake is talking to me. A boy in a bar is talking to me, and all I can think is, “I am so blogging about this when I get home.”
More drinking, more talking, more laughing only this time we’ve scooted to the boys’ table. Jake asks me to come outside with him so he can smoke a cigarette. I think guys and smoking is the same as girls and going to the bathroom: they just don’t want to do it alone.
Nothing too much exciting happened after that. We chatted some more. Sam joined us after Beau ditched her for another girl. (He must have finally realized she had a boyfriend.) We all said our good-byes and that was it.
If you’ve read this far you’re probably thinking, “What the hell, Brittany? No kiss? No number exchange?” Sorry to disappoint, but tonight was pretty low-key, and I’m okay with it. I forgot how nice it can be to sit in a bar and drink with your friends. Tomorrow I’ll be groggy and even more congested. I’ll curse myself for staying out late. I’ll wake up late and won’t have time to shower before work.
And then I’ll remember that the last thing I had before I went to sleep was a shot of Jack Daniels instead of my usual mug of hot apple cider. I’ll remember I met a cute guy named Jake and drove home singing to Against Me! at the top of my lungs. And then the grogginess, the congestion and last night’s make up won’t feel so bad. Sometimes it’s nice to be the girl who drinks too much, stays out too late and flirts with boys.
