An Ode To The Sober Sisters


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Nice Move


Having an officer position in your sorority is a worthwhile accomplishment. Some positions, however, have more perks than others. While nationals may know me as the Internal Social Chair of my chapter, I am more commonly known to my sisters as Head-Sober-Bitch-Numero-Uno. In this role, I undergo nearly thrice a semester, I plan and run all date functions, semis, and formal. Sober. I literally organize these events and then lead a sober crew for the night. Sober crew consists of myself and the band of bitter and somewhat butthurt ladies who got pulled to reign in the drunken shitshow with me. To commemorate the service of my fellow countrymen, I have written a special poem. To everyone who has ever served on sober crew, this one is for you.

An Ode to Sober Crew

Once there were some sober sisters,
Giving up booze and their misters.
They’d bought a dress and found a guy,
Only to be pulled; oh, how they cried!

“No spray tan, no Cuervo, no super hot date!
No pregame, no slow grind, no rolling in late!”

These sisters lamented this unfortunate truth,
To be sober and celibate, what a waste of their youth!

Once they had dreamed of formal and fun,
Of dancing, of drinking, shacking up with someone.
Now who’s to be the one lucky ringer
That will go home with the cover band’s hottie lead singer?

Not them, they know, as time will tell.
Their job is to watch drunkies dance and yell.

Fear not, my noble, sober crew!
For I am just as sober and horny as you!

I watch as the chaos of formal heats up,
All while cursing my own friggin’ luck.

I do love my job, and I love all of you,
Just sometimes I wish I could shotgun, too.

Just know this before you think to sass:
these sisters and I will so kick your ass.

Our senses are clear and we’re not feeling sweet,
So please shut the hell up and do take a seat (on the bus).

They’ve given up a lot to make formal nice,
So please be respectful, and take their advice.

For all that we’ve done, we’re not getting paid,
And without a date or a drink we’re not getting laid.

So here’s to us, the soberest of crews:
The best formal to many, thanks to the few.

I know it’s not iambic pentameter, but I still think that if Shakespeare wrote a play about date parties, this would definitely be an act.


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