Urban Dictionary: one who becomes intoxicated after a few drinks and flirts with everyone.
When you receive your best friend back from Thailand after a three week adventure, one would automatically assume these are terms for celebration. When her absence included her birthday, one would take for granted that the festivities would be trouble. I always find it extremely entertaining to think back (remembering as much as I can) on one of these nights unfolding. Everything begins pretty tame. Standing around whatever club you’re at, sipping those first drinks. I won’t lie, this sober launch into the night usually involves excessiv people scrutinizing. But what else is there to do while you’re sober? You can’t help but be annoyed at the group of people constantly bumping into you with their dance moves. And of course there are no potential husbands (kidding) to speak with in your vicinity. Luckily you’re with your best friend, so none of these negatives are causing too much of a threat to the night. The vodka shots slowly start to kick in and your stance goes from looking semi-bored to I’m-starting-to-not-care-about-the-dancing-group-invading-my-space anymore. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I feel like the next thing you know your (single) white girl wasted. If you catch me out while sober you will most likely find me quiet and shy; I am true to my cancer (zodiac) sign and reside in my shell. Put a little alcohol in my system and I morph into believing I am the coolest person ever, talking to anyone who will listen.
The morning after the night before this past Saturday, I realized that none of these escapades would be possible without the DJ (of course mixed with the vodka, JD, tequila, gin et cetera). Without the DJ there would be no background to our drunken debaucheries; there would be no accompaniment to the drunken make out sessions occurring on the dance floor (don’t act like you’ve never done it); and in the end there would be no reason for the (excuse me while I say lame) males to work up the courage to ask a girl to dance. Note to the males: don’t ever ask a girl to dance at a club, this isn’t high school. I came to these realizations as I lay in bed feeling the effects of the previous night while scrolling through my phone pictures trying to gain recollection of what went down. What I encountered were some funny pictures of the DJ and quite the entertaining video. I half panicked, had I even said goodbye?
So Ben, I would like to thank you for always letting me stash my coat in your DJ booth; for putting up with drunken girl stupidities night after night and always keeping a smile on your face; for allowing me to take photos of you in addition to blinding you with my video light. But most of all for providing a backdrop for the nights I can hardly remember with the friends I’ll never forget.