The Rock Star and The Frat Bar.

"It's Ladies' Night at the Animal House, we should go," Jackie said to me. I wrinkled my nose. Ladies' Night? What does that usually mean? A crowded, sweaty-ass bar filled to the brim with boys looking to score and girls wearing clothing one size too small.

"Come on," she said. "Fifty cent drinks all night. Any drink. Top shelf, anything." I sighed. I need to get out more anyway.

We parked in the ramp across the street and I saw a line outside. God. We were carded by a big man in an orange shirt that read RESIDENT ADVISOR and immediately I was hit with the intense bass line of some shitty-ass hip hop song and the overpowering smell of Axe Bodyspray. The place was well-lit, but I couldn't even see the bar.

I grabbed Tim's back and Jackie's hand and we attempted to maneuver around the skanky girls and the leering boys. After waiting a full ten minutes, we finally got up to the bar, and immediately I set my elbow in a puddle of beer.

"ALKSOEIL MNZXKWIU?" Jackie shouted.
"WHAT?"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DRINK?" she shouted much closer to my face. I couldn't see the bar except for the beer list, so I decided to have a good ol' Premium.

We smashed ourselves into two unoccupied feet of space; Tim grabbed a chair and the two of us crowded around him. I spent the majority of the time pivoted sideways, making myself as small as possible so as not to obstruct what was apparently the aisle to get to the bar.

Being in the Animal House made me feel like I was working at Frankie's again, but much skankier and, believe it or not, drunker. Watching the crowd was fantastic, however. Drunk, drunk boys trying to get random girls to buy them drinks (because they're fifty cents, of course). Girls chatting up the baseball players. Every now and again, a couple would start dirty dancing as they tried to move past us, which was awesome to watch.

With Drink Two, I chose a Tanqueray Rangpur and tonic, taking advantage of the fifty cent deal. The mistake was having a Drink Two. As the moments passed, the place got nastier and nastier. I sat in beer, I stepped in beer, I set my purse in beer, I put my hand in beer... pretty much everything ended up touching beer in one way or another.

Of course, I had to use the bathroom. With my Cocktail Waitress Skills Of Steel, I was able to politely work my way through the crowd with a surprising efficiency. Once inside, I realized I was in the world's smallest bathroom. Seriously, I managed to smash a girl behind the door, and, of course, step in a lot of toilet water. Awesome.

I left the bathroom to find a huge crowd. They were just chilling in front of the bathrooms, doing their thing, not realizing that I needed to get the fuck out. I tried to be polite, I tried to use my expert pivoting skills and well-placed nudges, but I had had enough. I quite literally shoved my way back to my friends. We slammed our Rangpur tonics and I dragged them out into the cool, crisp, Axe-free oxygen.

Screw frat bars, ladies' nights and all. Give me a smaller, quieter bar, good music, and a good beer, and I'm golden.