This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UCF chapter.
The classic “I have to pee, will you come with me?” is something all women have heard from their friends one too many times.
When said at a bar, this entails holding hands and making a chain to fight through the clumps of frat guys doing power hour in the corner of the bar, guys who just can’t see that you are clearly on a tight schedule and cannot afford to be hit on right now, and of course the ones who have had a little too much to drink and have paired off and proceeded to grind obnoxiously in the middle of your walking path.
So, you fight through the elbows, the guys you awkwardly get too close to while making your way, and the spilled drinks coming at you from all sides, and reach your final destination.. The bathroom.
“Ugh there’s a line. Maybe if you pretend to be sick we can skip to the front.”
Which is then either executed to perfection or ignored because there’s nobody brave enough to volunteer. There will always be some discussion about the line. If you’re early or it’s a good night, a comment will be made about how your life is awesome because you didn’t have to wait in line and there’s actually soap left, etc.
If this is any other time and the line resembles a line like the one outside Walmart on Black Friday, you can count on overhearing passive aggressive comments about girls who cut ahead with their friends and the one girl who insists if she waits any longer she WILL screw it and just go in the men’s bathroom.
Eventually, the wait is over and your group has finally reached the stall.
“Can you hold my (phone) (purse) (drink) (door, the lock doesn’t work) ?”
And as you wait…
“Ugh there’s no toilet paper anywhere!”
“Um why is THAT sorority written on the stall door? I never see any of them out.”
“Do I look drunk in this picture?”
“Okay ya it’s cute but is it insta worthy?”
“Is my lipstick okay?”
“OMG my hair looks terrible why did nobody tell me?!”
“When are they gonna fix that door?!”
“Ugh I feel SO fat. Like I can’t even.”
“Does anyone have lipgloss?!”
And a bar bathroom visit wouldn’t be complete without overhearing a conversation about some asshole guy and enthusiastically taking her side and recommending that she tell him off or throw a drink at him; the fact that you’ve never talked to her before and won’t remember her name is irrelevant, you now have a bathroom bond.
Finally, all hair is fixed, all lipstick is reapplied, all drinks are empty (requiring refills) and you leave, ready to take on the rest of the night.