Mania

Symptom 2

Dedicated to the lovely AliceHausling for her wonderful comments and support.

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EVERY time I read a story that talks about partying and bars during people's college years, I always realize how wildly inaccurate it is.

Bars for example, I can never get into. I don't have a fake ID because its honestly way to fucking complicated to get one. First of all you need a group of people to do it, because its way too expensive to do it individually. So most of the time your handling strangers money, and if you lose it or get scammed, you got a pretty pissed of group of strangers.

I say this with the assumption that you are indeed like me and only have a solid 3 real friends (and that's most likely rounding up), so strangers are what you use for group deals.

Anyway, if the people and money aren't the problem it's usually the wait time. Stories always portray it as you can get a fake in a day, when in reality it takes about two months, sometimes it can even take up to 4 if you're really unlucky.

If you are purchasing one that says it will be here in a week, I guarantee it is shit.

And in the end people will go through all this trouble to only get denied by a bouncer, and get their ID taken away. That's 80 bucks down the drain.

So it's safe to assume I do not go to bars.

Now , lets talk about these freakin' frat parties.

No they don't actually happen in giant houses, especially not in a urban area like my school.

Frat boys can absolutely not afford giant houses. Not unless daddy buys it for them, but nowadays daddy doesn't support their drinking habits that will most likely ruin his image.

According to an acquaintance of mine Gerard, douchebag daddies aren't a huge fan of social media.

So in connection to my point, frat houses are extremely small. Also most of the time they only let girls in because they want their 'brothers' to have the pick of the lot. Making the only way for guys to get in is to pay, and even then it's hard. Most of the time you have to have a connection to even get inside.

Like they're fucking royal or some shit.

Now, as a woman, maybe I should feel lucky that I get in for free. That somehow I should feel ecstatic that through all the oppression and harassment women face, at least I get to get into parties for free solely on the basis of man objectifying my body.

Note the sarcasm.

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"I FEEL like a packed sardine Liv." I turn to roommate in frustration. I was beginning to regret this. Not the coming out part, I'm glad that for once I get to go out, but the decision to come to Alpha Beta Who Fucking Cares.

The house was incredibly crowded. They're wasn't any room to dance or have fun, which is typically the main focus of the party. Instead there's maybe 40 girls and 8 dudes squashed in these tiny rooms, while we all crowd around a flimsy table to watch Carl Davis horribly fail at beer pong.

At least though he does help contribute to my debunking of Gerard's theory regarding beer pong.

Man + Liquor + Things Involving Hand/Eye Coordination, does not equate victory.

Dumbass.

"Yea this kind of blows I'm not going to lie. Maybe we need a bit more to drink?" I nod my head meagerly at her attempt to cheer me up. Although I myself was more of a weed over alcohol kind of gal, a cold one couldn't hurt at the moment.