I know this bitch...she slept with myboyfriend in 2001...so smashed her fucking grapes
A friend of mine was recently reminiscing over how in college we used to live right across the street from a bar....as opposed to now how we….well, live across the street from four bars. But it is not the same I tell ya! Not the same at all!
For starters, the first college bar I ever went to, I almost got arrested at. (Hi Mom and Dad!)
Made with pride and love...and a whole lotta dog meat
The night of the almost-arrest occurred like most others…it was 2001 and I had just walked out of my dorm room in boot cut black pants and a fluorescent Express tank top. It was all the rage. I was fairly obsessed with 112's Peaches & Cream and was banking on hearing that and Train’s Drops of Jupiter (the remix) that night. When I smiled at the ID Checker that night I handed over my fake Maryland ID with a 555 Street Lane address and about 5000 fucking emblems on it that stated, ‘This Is Not A Real ID’.
Good thing the 70-something lady in the smock dress who just moved to America last week was the one checking my ID.
About an hour or so into the evening I was on my fourth, Malibu-Baybreeze-Candy-Cotton-Blue-Serpent drink when out of nowhere about seven cops bum rushed the front door. Well like most normal, underage, college students we stopped mid-grind on the dance floor to start screaming. Yes. Screaming. You would have thought the building was being attacked by a sea monster the way the shrieks were coming out…and that was just from the guys. In a mad panic we all started trying to make our way out of every exit that we possibly could. I remember vividly throwing my fake ID to the ground, which was now literally covered in fake ID’s. About a hundred Joses Moses from California titled the ground.
Molly and I and about four other girls just keep booking it back to our dormitory, along with hundreds of other kids all trying to squeeze out every exit possible. The best part though was that Blu Cantrell was still blasting outside the Mexican doors, and the old lady who checked my ID just kept saying to the officers , “BUT WE SERVE BURRITOS!”
Now I still to this do not understand her explanation to the cops, but I do know whenever I get in trouble now, or have to explain my drinking to anyone over the age of 20, I just like to turn to them and say, “But we serve burritos!”