Ok, I’m just going to say it. Drunk girls suck. Like really, you guys are the worst. It’s not just the loud, screaming shrieks echoing the streets of Iowa City every weekend night or the excessive amount of vomit layered in the grass between Pancheros and Philips Hall, but the insane amount of backstabbing. Oh my f**king God. STOP IT.
I’m not saying I’m not a part of this, because I am. Hopefully, I do less of the backstabbing and more of the needless shrieks, but either way I’m here with you guys. Come on though ladies, we need to back off of each other! It’s a mess out there in the mass of Iowa City and you need someone who’s got your back. Sadly, some of the time (or maybe most of the time), we only got it out for ourselves. And even worse, our friends are exactly the same. I don’t even know how many times I’ve heard my friends complain about “that b****” last night who wiggled her ass in front of MY guy, or “that b****” that pretended that flirting was “just being nice.” Plunging knife after knife into backs, we constantly hurt each other.
Because, well…out there it’s war. An absolute war. It’s like that Mean Girls scene where everyone’s in the cafeteria and Cady and Regina start to actually fight over Aaron Samuels (Yeah, you know what I’m talking about). That’s Iowa City on the weekend. We narrow our eyes like wild cats and start pouncing the moment we see a cute smile. It’s a game and no one better get in the way. So, though we see our friend’s face fall from across the bar, we lean in close and giggle softy with the guy we know is off limits. We drag him out to dance. We take our sweet time with him. Maybe nothing happens or maybe everything happens. Either way, you can’t seem to scratch your friend’s face from your memory; hurt, broken up and trying so hard to look like she doesn’t even care.
Here comes the worse part of all this. The next morning everyone acts like nothing happened. No one talks about it, no one cries and no one slaps the hell out of the other. It’s silent and swallowed away with all the other nights. It’s dead in a drawer. Nothing to say. And if, by some miracle, some gutsy girl brings it up it’s always the same excuse. Every time. “Oh, I did? Wow, I was so drunk. I don’t even know.”
And that’ it. Nothing else. Everyone goes on with their lives. We all know drunk is the best excuse in the book. We all use it. That’s that.
Well shut up. Seriously. Because, unless you are rolling on the floor black out drunk and the guy is actually dragging you back to his place, you have no right to act like this.
Here’s the thing: being drunk is not an excuse for being a bad person. It’s just not.
Understandably, we are more influenced and more relaxed with a little alcohol. Our inhibitions are lower and we act pretty stupid sometimes (i.e. screaming on streets). But we know what’s right and wrong. That’s not gone. That’s very much still there. There’s a part of your fuddled brain that knows what you’re doing is pretty darn bad, but every time you push it away because you’re feeling drunk.
Well, I’m just sick of it. Seriously. If we just had each other’s backs every once in a while, going out could be so much better. So, please take responsibly for your actions. Take care of your friends. And for God’s sake, don’t act like it didn’t even happen.
This isn’t war. It’s just college.