Why is it that everytime somebody mentions some sort of pub crawl I'm all like, "Fuck yeah!" It's not like we don't bounce from bar to bar every weekend anyway, but an occassion that requires some sort of bar bouncing theme and schedule gives it that extra drunken euphoria.
When we were too young to pub crawl, we created the Out-of-House crawl with all the juniors in our sorority pledge class. In matching Ts, carrying matching cups, we got underclassmen to cart us around to about five of our houses or apartments where we drank in true themed style. Kate and I of course had the dirty Mexican party complete with tequila shots and a stereo blaring downloaded mariachi music.
After the whole of us turned 21, we soon gained the reputation of the drunkest pledge class that ever passed through the house. While most had a senior pub crawl we decided we needed to get some good wear out of our hot pink Aggieville bar strewn t-shirts that said "If you can read this, put me back on my barstool" upside down on the back, so we had about four. Then, as if that wasn't enough, we created the alumni pub crawl to help us slip into deep denial that we were all getting old.
Now, after the adult pub crawls consisting of tacky Christmas sweaters and santa hats, white trash attire and golf pro sluts and of course, Crawl For Cancer, news of perhaps the ultimate crawl popped up a few weeks ago.
An Around the World Bar Tour in the Power & Light District. Each bar was a different country and you had to answer different trivia questions at each to get a hole punched in your card. At the end, full punch cards were entered into a drawing for fabulous prizes.
So, instead of just drinking you kind of have to think, in otherwords, the lazy drunks need not apply. I happen to think I'm a smart, energetic drunk, so this was perfect for me. Especially since Sam had the ability to look up all the answers on Google from his phone. What? I'm not letting any lack of knowledge/rules stand in the way of that giant plasma TV prize. It's mine bitches.
My faux parents, also known as Kate and Sam, and I made up a team and we actually knew some of the answers without using phone Google. Except phone Google made us look too smart. The kind of smart that doesn't consume mass quantities of alcohol before the sun goes down. As I went up to the trivia post at McFadden's to spout off all of the answers to the four questions, including one pertaining to Hamlet, a guy standing nearby, seemingly quite impressed with my awesomeness exclaimed, "Are you a Shakespeare fan?!"
"Uuhhh...no." I said quickly, running away. While I'm more appreciative of his work now, reading Shakespeare in junior high and high school kind of made me want to stab my eyes out and die. I ran away to avoid revealing my phone Google secret. Not because I was ashamed or afraid he might quiz me with random Shakespearean nonsense, but because I feared he would steal it and ruin my chances at plasma TV ownership. I think not.
The rest of the day was lost in Red Bull and vodka, but I know at some point we made friends with the mimosa guzzling bartenders at Vininos and saw the extremely "mah" *push nose into the air with finger* bar Mosaic during the day. I dare not venture in there at night for my fear of orange tinted douchebags is far too great.
I turned in my full punch card, trying to think of how I was going to get my giant TV home, then about every other name except for the three of ours was drawn to receive a prize. Then some dude took home my TV and a tear fell into my beer. Bastard.
I sat at Kate's until I sobered up, then decided it was a good idea to go back to the P & L to round out the night with some more vodka. Alyse and I watched a girl perform an Irish jig on a table at Ragland Road while some sketchy, balding dude with billow-y chest hair repeatedly asked us on separate occasions if we wanted to go to Costa Rica with him.
I think I'll switch to beer now...