A lady never pukes on herself.
I am not a lady. One of my best drunk stories hails from many years ago when I joined two other femme fatales at Coyote Ugly in Chicago, where I lived at the time. I looked hot and danced my ass off.
At least until I was falling down and my friends dragged me out of the bar. Fast forward through three red-headed slut shots and one big glass of mixed alcohol that cost $10. I don’t remember much from that night, but I do recall being on my knees in the grass, puking up my guts along a Chicago tollway.
I am getting older and slightly smarter, so I didn’t puke on myself a few weeks ago on a girls’ night out.
A lady does, however, allow herself to get drunk sometimes. THAT, I did accomplish. I barely remember half the night, which sucks, because my goal was to actually catch up with some of my girls. So here’s a few tips from Girls’ Night Out.
5. Eat dinner. Yes, duh. I went to college. This is freshman year 101 stuff, like learning to tap a keg or stashing a pen in your purse so you can make it to your final the next day even though you crashed at some guy’s house. (Despite my hangover and bar ho outfit, I walked into the final, took it in about 20 minutes and got an A!) Anyway, eating dinner helps ensure you don’t get majorly wasted majorly fast. Apparently half-priced appetizers at Borough don’t count as a full meal.
4. Pace Yourself. What? You mean two drinks, one shot and a big glass of wine between 6 and 9 p.m. without dinner was a bad idea? Yes, by 1 a.m. I was trashed and incoherent. Time to go home.
3. Just dance. We hit Solas (before the 10 p.m. cover – woot!) and yes, there are usually some sleezy guys shakin’ it around you, but hey, it’s just dancing. On one recent visit to Solas a couple I was with got hit on my a pair of 40-something swingers, both with a bit too much muffin top peaking out of their slightly stonewashed jeans. Eek. But hey, all in good fun, and a simple, “No thank you” goes a long way!
2. Mix it up. Some of my friends are anti-Glenwood snobs. Some of my friends don’t go out anywhere but Glenwood. Personally, I find that Raleigh isn’t that big and you can’t just visit the same three bars each week. Variety is the spice of life. Not only should you venture to a dance club once in awhile, but check out Jackpot next time you’re in the mood for a dive bar or hit up the Hargett/Wilmington/Moore Square section of town.
1. Take care of yourself. Again, a big duh from college. Wear shoes that you can dance AND walk in. Afterward, don’t be afraid to hit up the hot dog stands on Hargett and Glenwood or the shish kabob guy who hangs out near the gay bars. Drink water, take aspirin. Don’t drive. Pass out and hopefully wake up to a cute boyfriend or roommate who is supplying you with water, caffeine and food.
I skipped No. 4 and No. 5, and I managed to have fun, but if it weren’t for my camera, I wouldn’t remember much. So next time, I think I’ll follow my own rules.