Let’s paint the picture, shall we? You’re sitting at home, getting ready for a night of watching Netflix and not wearing pants. You had a rough week and you literally don’t want to see anyone for the next forty-eight hours. Just as you are about to click “play” on the next episode of Friends, you get a text from your friend saying she wants you to go out with her.
You’re about to tell her no, because you kind of had a plan for the evening.
But then you imagine all of your friends at the bar without you. Dancing. Drinking. Laughing. Having fun. Literally not giving a shit that you aren’t there.
And you’re just like:
You agree to go (only if she picks you up) and you realize that you have to start getting ready immediately if you’re going to look somewhat presentable.
After about five minutes of trying to pull yourself together, you give up on curling your hair and decide that you have more important preparations to make.
By the time she gets there, you’re already sufficiently tipsy. You’re feeling flirty and thriving and kind of slutty, so you know it’s going to be a good night. You still aren’t wearing pants and your hair has seen better days, but you have totally warmed up to the going out idea.
Unfortunately, you were on different pages when deciding what to wear. She comes in looking like a goddess and you look like, well, not a goddess. She does one of “those” looks and asks if that’s what you’re actually going to wear, and you’re just like:
But thanks to your good friend wine, you’re feeling good and too pumped up to care, so you throw on some dirty jeans and head to the car like the badass bitch that you are.
You’re faced with a dilemma when it comes to transportation. Naturally, you can’t drive because safety first. But that doesn’t mean you should stop consuming alcohol. Considering the selfless act you made to come out, you insist on drinking in the car. What’s a pregame if not in a moving vehicle?
Even though your friend is lame and NOT about it, you tell her to just be cool and no one will pull her over.
You pull up to the bar like:
And like clockwork, the moment you walk in, you immediately hear your song.
You head out to the dance floor and start really “white girl-ing” it. You aren’t holding back because this is your night and you’re a freaking sex goddess and nothing can go wrong.
Except that your friend starts acting super weird and tells you to be cool and not look.
So naturally you look, and to your horror, you see your ex-boyfriend. And he is not alone.
Your entire body goes hot and you have this sudden urge to go cause the girl he’s with physical pain
But you’re too scared to actually get into a fight, so you decide to be the bigger person and just go to the bar and get drunk. Because you’re nice. And she’s lucky. And you’ve never actually caused anyone real physical harm, so you kind of don’t know what to do.
But, like, you literally can’t stop staring at the girl who’s with your guy.
You decide that you just have to go up to them, because it’s the polite thing to do. You can’t just ignore him, and besides, you have something that you need to tell him.
Naturally, that’s when he decides to let you know that this skank is actually his new girlfriend, which is insane. You have no idea what to do with your body so you’re just smiling like:
Even though you’re saying something a little different in your head.
And right then is when you start drunk crying.
So your friends jump in like:
You then realize that your night is completely screwed, so really, your only option now is to get disturbingly blackout drunk.
And to hook up with someone who’s really hot and really random. It also has to be really obvious so that your ex-boyfriend knows what’s going on. You look around like:
But literally no one pays attention to you, because you were “that” girl who cried at the bar. You decide to be a little more bold to lure in the men.
Almost immediately, a guy comes up to you.
He offers to buy you a drink and you’re like:
After about five minutes of small talk, he asks if you want to go back to his place and you’re just like:
You shout a quick goodbye to your friends and make sure your ex is watching before making a dramatic exit.
Once you get back to his place, he thinks that things are really going to start heating up.
Except that you can’t get your ex out of your head. Like, what the hell was he doing dating that girl? That’s not what love is about. You feel the need to give this totally hot, random guy a ton of unsolicited relationship advice.
So he’s just like:
and passes out.
When you wake up the next morning, you think that you might actually be dead.
You roll over and see this random, hot guy next to you and you’re in shock.
You think about the night and the whole “seeing the ex, going home with a random, and being a complete tease” thing comes back to you. You realize that you need to sneak out as inconspicuously as possible.
After getting home, you do a few of the hangover necessities.
And then you check your phone, only to be greeted with about a hundred messages from your friends.
Literally all of them are like:
You’re completely embarrassed about everything, so you just act like you and the guy had an actual connection and that it might really be something.
And then you see how many drunk texts you sent to your ex, most of them along the lines of:
And you’re just like:
This is why you are literally never going out ever again.
Well, until next week..