A hush fell over Bentley’s last Saturday night as murmurs of the scandal spread throughout the crowd. Witness and GVPT Junior Jake Webber noted it was “unlike anything he’d seen before.”
“First everything was normal, usual Saturday Bents crowd, and then, it– it happened.” Webber had asked for two vodka sours for himself and a lady friend when he first noticed it: no tiny black straws. “Then it just hit me like this wave of vertigo, or something, I don’t know what it was. I mean I’d had a few drinks in me at that point but something was definitely off.”
[fdxAds id=139877 container=fdx-container align=right]
Other instances of the vertigo-like sensation occurred to multiple witnesses. For Senior Sarah Bach, the moment was “fast and rushing” and upon realization that there were no longer tiny black straws to be put in clear plastic cups, “it was like the whole atmosphere changed and the bar was no longer what it used to be.”
Bach asked the bartender to confirm there were indeed no more black straws, and to the dismay of the whole Bentley’s crowd, the rumors were true. “One of my buddies started getting hot sweats, it was really scary,” Webber said. “His whole face went pale and just like that he was just not feeling the vibes any more.”
Others claimed that Bentley’s might not even be their top choice for Saturday night endeavors in the future. Senior Gordon Atwood remarked, “I have standards, you know, and if those standards aren’t being met, then sometimes you gotta make a change.”
According to witnesses, without the tiny black straws, the night can take “way different turns,” and lose the fun and free-spirited quality that a fine establishment like Bentley’s provides. “I mean sometimes it really just comes down to this: without straws, is it even worth going?” said Atwood. Atwood, after reflecting on the night, started to tear up and “needed a minute.”
For Bentley’s this is a rare occurrence, the running out of tiny black straws that everyone is so fond of. This detail should not go underestimated. It is not the appearance of vomit streaked among the stalls, or the beer cans rolling on the ground among a crowded room full of sweaty underage strangers that drives people away. It is merely the loss of a detail, an expectation, a friend. The tiny black straw offered solace in the vast sea of the unknown, something to grab onto in the storm of life. But most of all, the tiny black straw offered hope.