As a girl, you’ll start to notice that typical weekend nights in Storrs tend to fall into the same pattern that can’t be changed. Let’s be real here, no one wants to break the cycle (or seal) anyway, but it’s necessary to reflect on your actions every once in a while. So, The Black Sheep is here to break down just how things can go from pregame to straight shame.
6p.m. – Preparing For Maximum Intoxication
Early dinner ensues to carb up (Editor’s note: Eating protein is better. The more you know). Why Towers’ pasta bar is not on Friday night is a crime. Then again does anyone really want to make out with tomato alfredo breath? No. Remember: girls who just eat salad for dinner are just asking to black out — do less and eat more.
The question of the night’s destination is also discussed here, and serious time and consideration are required for the critical analysis of which frat will appreciate her outfit the most. Or so she thinks, the answer is actually none of the above, and all she really needs to decide is which one will have the longest lasting supply of jungle juice.
8p.m. – Viciously Pregaming
While makeup and hair is done and outfits are changed 20 times, the ratchet girl anthem playlist rages in the background, and these pregame songs depict whether or not it will be a good night. It is also noted that the aggression a girl gives off during Big Sean’s “I Don’t Fuck With You” represents just how much she may loathe her ex-boyfriend and the rest of the male race. One, two, three, four (she thinks?) shots later, and Snapchat stories are starting to become longer than that random German film class everyone takes.
10p.m. – Arrival to Booze Destination
The majority of girls will have no conception of distance or time and all of a sudden they have arrived at a less than aesthetically pleasing ranch and herded into the basement like a flock of sheep. All of a sudden a Solo cup of jungle juice is in their hands and they’re definitely ready to shoot the guy from macro the classic “where are you” text.
Not too long after that, girls start to fiend for more juice because that liquid courage suddenly tastes like the best glass of lemonade east of the Mississippi — mainly because the basement is 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit.
12 a.m. – Where The Hell Are My Friends
The typical girl gets lost at a frat party an average of 8 times, makes laps to flirt with the same guy 10 times, and wonders to herself where her friends are basically the entire night. This stage of the night could go one of two ways, it is either the peak-drunk-best-night-ever, or the point where she contemplates whether she wants Wings Over or Wally’s.
1 a.m. All You Need is Wings
Fast-forward to the delivery of the honey BBQ hang-glider to a very drunk girl who surprises herself yet again by mysteriously making it home. For a reason that only Smirnoff can make clear while also blurry, it becomes super okay to add 5 y’s to that heyyyyy text to boy from macro. Several texts exchanged later will absolutely lead to extensive morning regret.
7:30 a.m. Never Gonna Drink Again
“Why does my body hate me” followed by a trip to hangover-curing Bagel Zone or Wooden Spoon; either of which will show remorseful girls that a god truly does exist. The weekly promise voiced throughout campus to never drink again will surely be kept. Well, starting next week, maybe.