Easily one of the greatest college traditions, senior bar crawl is an event for the history books. It’s one night where the remaining members of your OG pledge class get together, forget about cliques, and get completely trashed. After figuring out all the bar specials, outfits, and plans, it’s game time. And it goes a little something like this:
Everyone meets at the pregame, pics are taken, face paint and glitter are applied or people change outfits to better fit the “theme.” Someone says something sentimental and everyone yells at her for almost making everyone cry already. You congratulate yourself on deciding to go with the fanny pack tonight, (aw yeah, hands-free baby) thus increased drink holding capabilities.
Bar 1. Everyone is hyped to go out, but you’re not all that drunk yet, so some people are a little awkward. Individual groups of friends are still visible a little bit, but after a strong drink and an Irish Car Bomb, everyone is ~vibing~ way better.
Bar 2. The PC had to hit up the freshman bar for old time’s sake, and it’s as gross as it ever was. Everyone takes a shot and snaps a million pics in the bar you’ll probably never go to again (sob). You spot your rival sorority doing their crawl on the same night, those bitches. It’s okay though, your shirts are cooler and you have way more spirit. *Hair flip*
Bar 3. Tri Pi was getting up in your grill and the tiny freshman bar was getting too hot, so the de facto leader of the crawl has herded everyone across the street to the next bar. Everyone’s a few drinks deep now and everything is kumbaya. Bar 3 is a crowd favorite, so you stay here a bit longer since you burned through Bar 2 pretty quickly. Group photos are now definitely happening, and at least one person has fallen down (“I’m not that drunk, I just slipped!”). You’re somehow missing part of your costume, but you carry on.
Bar 4. They only gave you a deal for one shot per girl, so everyone runs in, grabs the shots, yells cheers to the PC, and dips.
Bar 5. Unplanned trip to the bar that used to be lame freshman year and is now cool somehow? You’re squad deep on the dance floor. You slay it. On the way out you run into a current hookup, damn what a snack. He’s now a member of the crawl. The PC collectively realizes that it’s only 11 and that you’re all incredibly fucked.
Bar 6. You have no idea how you got up the steps to the rooftop bar, or when you gave the bouncer your ID (“Whyy do you like need my ID? It’s senior crawl, S-E-N-I-O-R. Don’t you know who I am??”). At some point you were making out with your delicious man candy, you know this because there are photos and now they’re in the bar crawl Groupme. At some point you leave? How you got back down the stairs is a mystery and it’s very impressive.
Bar 7. One girl somehow has chicken nuggets and no one knows where they came from. The PC destroys those nuggets. You all take that last shot that you absolutely shouldn’t have, but fuck it, it’s senior crawl. You spot this guy you love/hate and your sisters maneuver you around to where he can totally see you making out with the aforementioned snack, who is somehow still with you. Bless up.
The last girls standing all squeeze into the DD’s cars and make it to the promised land (Taco Bell). Someone says something sentimental, and everyone cries. You take more pics, hug, and tell everyone how much you love them and how pretty and perfect they are. All true things.
~The next day~
Pics are exchanged, everyone recounts the night’s festivities, everyone laughs, and you’re all so thankful for sisters who can go out together without judgment or drama for at least one perfect night that you’ll remember (sort of) forever. Bringing all of your day 1’s together for one last hurrah reminds you why you joined a sorority in the first place: they understand you, love you, support you, and get wild with you.
Viva bar crawl..
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