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Take This Not That: A Guide to Curing Drunken Kleptomania

It’s Tuesday night, and you and every other girl in your house are blasting J-Biebs while roaming around trying to get your last minute social outfits together. Four hours ago you had no intention of going to this soiree (you have an 8:30am class and exam), but then at dinner you overheard Jessica mention the new red suspenders she bought for the sosh (social), and as you mentally bitched her our for stealing your idea, you announced to the table that you will most definitely be there, and anyone else who wears suspenders to CEOs and Office Hoes might as well dance with their hands on the ground, because they are a skank. In between belting “One Time” and curling your hair, you look at your roommate and make her pinky swear to one thing and one thing only, NO DRUNKEN KLEPTO TONIGHT.

Drunken kleptomania syndrome is an inevitable growing pain, and everyone experiences it at least once in their first few weeks of blacking out as a freshman. It’s not our fault we are so used to getting whatever we want that when we drink we think we can make anything ours…but, believe it or not, our precious little frat boys take offense to thievery. Their levels of douchiness rise rapidly when they notice their most precious dolphin statue has gone missing, and they have no shame in calling up your social chair to find out who has it and angrily demand a search and rescue team. Well, I’ve come up with a few ways to keep yourself from drunkenly taking something you should definitely be leaving alone.

Take a shot, not a shirt.

You might be thinking about how amazing that neon frat tank would look over your VS bikini, but your drunken state has somehow kept you from noticing that it has a completely different sorority’s letters all over it, making it absolutely impossible to ever wear. Some of us may be pre-law, but no girl can lie her way out of another sorostitution’s letters. Instead of reaching for that drawer of shacker shirts, stick a hand out to the bartender and throw those shots back like a champ. And if you want to make it even more fun, tally mark your arm for every shot you take, trust us it’s a game you can win without remembering.

Pull off can tabs, not composites.

Sure, your fratdaddy looks future-CEO-good in his composite picture, and that giant frame might look as light as a Diet Coke, but whatever you do…DO NOT TAKE THE COMPOSITE. One: it’s heavy, and not like “Oh my God I had 5 M&Ms I’m such a heifer” heavy. Two: there are probably way more people around than you think, so getting out of the house without getting caught is about as likely as JoePa returning to Penn State. Three: “doing it for the story” is not an appropriate defense in standards, so unless your daddy happens to be Casey Anthony’s attorney you’re totally screwing yourself. Instead of pulling off the composites, pull off can tabs. There are always so many around that you’ll be entertained for hours, and then when you wake up to a bra-o-tabs you can attribute it to helping the earth. Go green!

Steal a hookup, not a handle.

Everyone loves to be in charge of the pull-patrol, but no one likes a handle hog, and we’ve all witnessed the girls who try to pour half the handle in a random Gatorade bottle (God only knows where that’s been). Come on now girls, there will be plenty more nights of free alchy. No need to steal it! Instead, find yourself a nice fratstar and initiate a hookup. Who knows, he might be your ticket to that upcoming water-park date function.

Let’s be honest ladies, there is no better way to spend a night out than doing hoodratshit with your best gal pals, but when it comes to full blown stealing, not even puppy dog eyes can save you from a standard’s call, and a totally public (not to mention embarrassing) apology note. So behave yourselves, and if you feel the slightest drunken temptation to take something, make it a shot, a can tab, or a boy.

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