Silk || hs

The Bar Crawl

Initially, I thought that my attire would be acceptable to venture out in; however, this belief was proven to be very much wrong within minutes of seeing my roommates' clothing.

Back to the drawing board it is, then.

Eyeing my newly organized closet, I sigh, knowing there are only three dresses that could possibly be acceptable for this evening. With a shrug, I grab one of my hoe dresses and say "what the hell" to myself before squeezing myself into the tiny fabric prison and zipping up the back. With my tits out, my makeup done, and a crippling pair of heels, I leave my small room and walk into the common room where I find a nearly empty vodka bottle and my three roommates, looking way hotter than I could ever dream of being. They surprise me when they gush over my outfit and my makeup, though, so at least I have that going for me.

"Alright ladies, time to catch the boys," I announce, taking my phone and my keys in my hand. It takes several minutes for me to escort them out of the room and several more to heard them into my car. I drive to the only bar I know of and hope it's a good one; the girl's' loud screeching when we arrive confirms that I have made a somewhat decent choice.

Before I can put the car in park, the girls are already scrambling out of the car towards the entrance of the bar. It's funny how they suddenly want to operate like normal humans the minute I'm not trying to get them in one place. Actually, it's not funny. It's kind of annoying, and now that they're loose, I realize that rounding them up in a bar like this is going to be a nightmare. 'Club' is probably a more accurate description of this place. Strobe lights are bouncing off the walls, and please don't even get me started on the shit-covered floor. I'm pretty sure that if the juices on the floor touched your skin, you'd probably have to burn it off to be entirely cleansed from it.

As I approach the club, I contemplate going inside when the storefront a few doors down catches my attention. It has a heavy wooden door with glass walls, and inside there are pool tables and some guy singing on stage with a guitar. It's decently crowded in there, but nothing compared to the ever-increasing line out the door of this God-forsaken house of hooligans. This other place really seems more like my kind of scene.

"Maybe later," I tell myself, following my three crazy roommates and standing in line.

The wait is nearly twenty minutes and my feet are already killing me; I genuinely can't fathom having to last any longer in these shoes than midnight, so hopefully, my roommates get their fill of partying before I heard them up to leave. I don't know how likely that is to happen, though, since no less than seven stupid frat boys have come up to us, trying to charm their way ahead in line. Now, I might could fall for their lies if I were desperate enough, but these guys are clearly assholes, so I have determined that none of them will cut in front of me. My roommates, on the other hand, do not have the same restraint as I do, so they let these dickheads get ahead in line, meaning that we're going to be here longer than I had hoped.

When we at last get into the club, it's more crowded than I ever could have imagined. There's literally no room to walk, and the only decent standing room is by the bathroom. With so many people squeezing against me, that is the only place in which I will be able to survive this night. All of us are separated at this point; trying to stay together would have been a fool's errand. I try to make my way to the open space I had seen earlier, and the moment I manage to escape the throng of sweaty bodies is like squeezing pus out of a wound. The pressure of everyone against me finally becomes so great that once I am free of it, my body is thrust forward, rather aggressively, into the wall by the bathrooms. Only, I don't hit the wall directly. I hit a person. Oh god.

Stumbling to catch my balance, I finally am able to stand up straight and look the person in the face. At first, I'm confused. I expect to see some drunk, khaki-wearing, Hawaiian shirt-clad frat dude in loafers, but that is not at all the person I am looking at. He's wearing black dress pants along with what looks to be a silk gold blouse of sorts that has a deep v-neck and appears to be too short on him. Either that, or it's just supposed to be that way, I don't really know.