A Post College Memoir: I Went to a College Bar

The New Me - I Have a Riesling Headache

I am here to announce, for the first time since I threw my cap in the air and streaked naked across the bleacher stage graduated college – I went to a college bar. Whew. Ok, the first step is admitting it.

Now, the next step is living to tell the story (which I obviously did).  In every college there is a token college bar.  It’s usually small, it houses only 50 people comfortably, the bouncers stash at least 200, there is loud music provided by a local DJ, there are lots of drink specials, wet surfaces, and girls and guys drooling on each other on a small platform used as a make-shift dance floor.  If you’re not following me, I’m deeply sorry. No, I really am.  If you did not get to experience the glory that is a college bar during your four years of living the dream – completely at a loss.

Anyway, in a desperate feat to see old friends and live up a life I’ve turned down 10 notches while living at home- me and some girlfriends put on our whore faces makeup and squeezed on some sausage binding a dress and flew out the door. Oh em gee, watch out boyz!

Back in the day when I was young enough to not feel like a complete pedophile at the local college bar, we had the time of our life at this bar. We call it Plums ‘Puddle of lust’ Bar.  Because that’s what it is.  Ok. We’re all good at math.  What do you get when you put together two for one’s + 20 year old boys + sloppy girls.  Get the equation? Great, let’s move on.

However, this time I was fighting a Riesling headache because I had been doing grown up happy hour at a local grown up bar downtown before entering ABC Day Care, Plums Bar. I walked in, my hair softly blew in the wind like Bar Rafeal in a Sports Illustrated photoshoot and I tripped on my nude pumps. The party’s here.

Except it wasn’t.  I felt outdated, a little too old for the mosh pit taking place on the dance floor and completely at a loss with my performance.  Me and my girlfriends found a few people we knew, exchanged hugs, and stood in a corner and tried to debate our next move.  Do we rip our dresses pop locking and dropping it next to the rippin’ DJ?  Do we spill our drinks all over our cleavage and dance on the bar for a free beer? Do we go have a cig amongst a young crowd out in the patio?

The questions floated amongst us like a hazy void. How bout neither?  Ok, I’m not old. In fact, I’m young and naive. So why was this college bar not settling so well with us?  I’m not sure if I was consuming way too much cranberry juice in our rail drinks, or if my dress was simply too tight – but I left feeling unsatisfied. I guess there comes a time when you have to move on.  Last year, I couldn’t imagine a life without my college bar and my college friends, my college drinks, my college hair flips, my college pumps that I didn’t trip on…

And I’m becoming OK with all that.  I can still have a good time. Like a 23 year old. Amongst a crowd that drinks $8 Riesling, doesn’t have a job and owns it.

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University of Saint Thomas graduate. Minnesota-bred and happy to talk about the weather any time you’d like! Strongly believes any situation can be bettered by a slice of generously buttered toast or Phil Dunphy. Would get arrested to touch Justin Timberlake’s face. Always trying to be a better person by not wishing horrible karma on people driving slow in the fast lane. Hear more: @twitter @instagram


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