Our pathetic stories from college to make you feel better about yourself - pt. 1
We’re told that college consists of the best 4, 5, or for some, 6 years of our lives. This is something that for the most part, I’ve found to be true. The freedom that college offers is unlike anything I’ve experienced and will probably ever experience. However, as many highs as college offers, there are certainly low points as well. Even in the blissful college atmosphere, these lows are unfortunately unavoidable. I’ve gone through them, will probably go through more, and so will you. Often times when you’re experiencing hardships, it helps to know that you are not alone, and that is the point of this series. Over here at Barkeep we have the luxury of making fun of all of you when you do something corny or embarrassing, but I assure you we are not perfect either. This series will allow us to relive these lows whilst simultaneously helping you all know that you’re not alone. Feel free to laugh at us and blast us on YikYak for these stories. It’s good to laugh at yourself, and we here at Barkeep are no strangers to it. The stories in this series will consist of tales from our current team, our alumni owners, and our close friends willing to share their most embarrassing moments.
“Do you believe in love?”
Early on in my collegiate career I was going through probably the hardest time of my life. I was fresh out of a relationship and fresh into Greek life. Greek life was supposed to solve all of my problems. I was gonna’ get so much pussy, have a blast with my new friends, and become the coolest guy on campus. At least that was the plan. Instead of scoring a bunch of ass and being super cool, I would get shitfaced with all of my friends every day of the week, not go to class, and lay around in sorrow for the most part.
The pinnacle of these days cultivated on a night that I would actually get lucky with a lady. A couple of ladies, actually. While this may sound cool, I can assure you it was not. More on that later. This night began at The Hangout, where bad decisions are a sure thing. The night started like most, with me and my boys out on the town over-indulging in alcohol, neglecting all things important. The night would begin to take a turn for the worst when the devil spawned my kryptonite: My ex-girlfriend.
At first, I thought this was a blessing. She’s here at the bar with me. Here’s my chance. I’m going to win her back! I was an idiot. What actually happened was she was there with her new boy toy at the time. This guy was at least 6 inches taller than me, twice as handsome as me, and 10 times cooler than I could ever hope to be. It was clear I didn’t stand a chance. The only thing that I thought might salvage the night was when Darius Rucker’s “Wagon Wheel” came on. This was her and I’s song once upon a time. Surely she’s going to look over at me and we’re going to have a beautiful moment, right? Wrong. She did look over at me. As I sat there, sad and reminiscing on the past, she looked me dead in the eyes, laughed, and began throwing ass on the handsome new man she was seeing. If a gun were present I would’ve shot myself in the head right then and there.
With no gun present, I had to consider other options. Looking around, I noticed a girl that I knew was interested in me. This girl was not my type at all, but in a futile effort to make my ex-girlfriend jealous, I went over to strike up a conversation with her. Not her real name, but we’ll call her Ava. I told Ava of the situation. That my ex was here dry humping a dude that could beat my ass, and I wanted to show her up. Ava was down to help. In what seemed like a great idea at the time, we walked over to the Hangout dance floor, right next to my ex, and began viciously making out right in front of everyone. It was the grossest, wettest, and ugliest make out session you can imagine. Everyone looked at us in disgust, especially my ex girlfriend. She was not at all jealous, and instead gave me a look of pity. It was clear she knew what I was attempting to do, and felt bad for me.
Defeated and back at the bar, I sat there trying to hide my tears as my ex continued to have a great night with Mr. Perfect. What can I do to make myself feel better? The correct answer: go home, sleep it off, try to have a better day tomorrow. What I came up with in the moment: Text every girl in my contacts and ask for meaningless sex. After probably 30 texts/snapchats, I got a bite. I walked across the room towards the door, gave my ex a dirty look, and stormed out of the bar to complete this conquest. My destination was River Campus. This girl we’ll call Hailey. Fast forward to my destination, there was a clear goal in sight: Have sex. This is how I take control of the night. This is how I make up for my terrible performance at the bar. This is where I show my ex who’s boss. This is where I… Make the night even worse.
After a little bit of making out, Hailey and I begin to take off our clothes. It seemed like any hookup ever. Go in. Get the job done. Leave. But nope, somehow I found a way to fuck it up. With a beautiful, freaky, naked river rat there ready to have sex with me, I freeze. Every emotion from the night hits at once, along with all of the beer, as well as some weird drug I did with the river campus girl right before we began making out. Tears begin falling like the Niagara. Hailey just stares at me as I try to gather myself. After a very, very, very long 20 seconds, I stop crying and just stare back at Hailey. Surprisingly, she offers me an out. Hailey ignores the strange outburst of tears and tells me to proceed. She has just witnessed a man cry his eyes out while laying on top of her, and is still giving me an opportunity to salvage the night. Instead of taking her miracle offer, all I do is ask:
“Do you believe in love?”
This was the final straw. Hailey, finally fed up with my shit, immediately threw me off of her and sent me on my way. I went home, vomited, and cried myself to sleep.