Hi, I’m Lex and currently I am sitting in the back of a car listening to really loud mariachi music trying to hold my breath from the smell of what I only can hope is just bad cologne. I started pondering about the fact that I know a lot of people who have thought the same thing at one point or another…how on earth did I get here? That relatable feeling is why I am writing this article.
It all started when my friend, Stella, came to visit me for the weekend. She goes to a highly prestigious, no partying, no beach, no sweatpants to class, school in Massachusetts. Looking back, I never really understood why Stella chose the school that had no social aspect besides academic clubs when she was the same girl who fake kidnapped me for a birthday trip to Atlantic City, but that is a story for another time. All I knew was that she was ready to party, and I was her ticket into the wild life.
As a child of the 2000s with more stereotypically feminine interests there is one thing that I had a vast knowledge on at the age of 13: Chick flics. Especially the ones where girls would live a lavish life of style and grace, go out and party, and always have perfect hair. Now those movies, that lifestyle, was the blueprint for the weekend.
It is important to note that she was in a committed relationship when these plans were made. Brad, her boyfriend of seven months, was going to go visit his friend back home in Wisconsin that weekend as well. So, it was going to be the ultimate girl’s weekend complete with a girl’s night in and a girl’s night out. Only one slight issue occurred less than 24 hours before she was to get on that flight… Brad had been cheating on her for 4 months. Stella found out through his camera roll. The girl in question was blonde hair, blue eyed, and about all the motivation that my friend needed to be boiling mad. I know a lot of people in my life as a college student, especially my female friends, have experienced that feeling. The intense rage towards the person that they cheated with and then the cheater. All those emotions are what she unleased on the phone the night before. Stella went through the motions that I think a lot of girls go through when put in those situations. She went through rage, sadness, then ended with indifference. Which led to a lot of her behavior that first night, but I will get into that later.
The plane landed and as soon as she touched the Florida sidewalk outside of the terminal, Stella felt single again, or at least that’s what she told me in the car. The first night I expected her to be a little tired so instead of going to Tampa to the club, we were going to have a nice night in. Those plans immediately changed. We got to my apartment she changed quicker than I have ever seen her change before. I got ready slower as I was still shocked from the whiplash of mental state that she had exhibited. This was the same girl calling me 12 hours ago about how she didn’t know how he could do that to her. By the time I was ready, both of us looked stunning and very motivated to start the night.
Now I understand that as a friend I should probably have made her stay home and be comforting for her. It’s important to note that her relationship, while amazing when together, was more on and off than Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez. This had been her final straw when it came to being with him and neither I nor divine intervention was going to change her mind that night. On normal occasions, she is the kind of person you go along with when tangents occur to keep the peace, but that night, if I even dared to protest, I would have probably ended up in a fountain.
We got to the club and the weather outside was warm but had a crisp wind that would blow anytime I would start to get comfortable. When in the line, I could sense how the night was heading. We started talking to the girls in front of us laughing and wondering why it was taking the bouncers so long. Stella accidentally, well at least I think it was an accident, pushed me into the group of guys behind us. They were clearly our age and clearly flirtatious. This led me to get one of their socials and her to get another one’s number. While I am a social person this much social interaction was starting to get to me.
We got inside and the place was packed. I felt like a sardine trapped in a container, trapped in another container, trapped in a locked case. The air in the room was essentially made up from more body odor and less oxygen, or at least it felt like it. I was starting to have a personal vendetta against the group of men next to me as they kept swaying right into my side. I could feel their back sweat on my arm and the layer of thickness was increasing. Even given all that, it didn’t matter. Smiles adorned both our faces and the random conversations we had that night made it even better.
I turned away from her for a second to order myself a beverage. When I turned back, beverage in hand, all I saw was her waving to me to come with her and this group of guys. Their names were Steven, Charlie, and Graham. Steven and Stella kept flirting, and it was becoming apparent that they were really hitting it off. Both were giggling and dancing like they were the only two people in the room. While in contrast I felt as though I was being pushed by everyone else in the club.
The night went on and she and I got hungry. The guys offered to take us to Wawa, and we graciously accepted, well, more like Stella did. I sat in the back with Charlie and Graham as Steven drove and Stella sat in his passenger seat. As I was getting tired, I started to put my head on Graham because his shoulder was the perfect height for where I needed a pillow. Graham was just my type. He was tall, with pretty eyes, and red flags that probably should have made me run away. He and I started talking and the conversation was going well…too well.
At this point Charlie felt like he was fifth wheeling, so Steven dropped him off. It was at that point I made a very scary decision. Do I tell Stella we can see them again and end the night now or do I not say anything knowing that I will most likely end up sitting in a lobby for three hours waiting for her to get done hanging out with Steven?
We got our food and ultimately went to the apartment complex that they both lived in. Steven and Stella went upstairs so that Steven could show her his guitar collection…for three hours. Graham offered that he and I go to his car as I made it highly clear I wanted to nap. I reluctantly agreed after a lot of questioning of his intentions. We got to his car, and it smelt rancid. He went into the glove box and sprayed some bottle to try and mitigate the smell. It only got worse. He then asked if I wanted to listen to some music to which I replied that I didn’t care, and I was going to sleep. The second I put my head on the seat with me lying down in the back row he started blasting mariachi music. I am familiar with this music given my mother used to take me to a restaurant with a mariachi band as a celebratory dinner. I enjoy this music at dinner; however, I am not as much of a fan when I am trying to sleep in the back of a car in a parking lot, I have never been in.
The ultimate end of the night is when he kissed my forehead and said good night. He was very much a typical man. We had a very long-lasting amazing talking stage that was filled with so many fond moments… then a week past and I left him on opened after he complained I sent my ceiling to many times.
Steven and Stella still talk to this day. While they are nowhere near getting in a relationship, they often laugh about the random night they had together talking about guitars and forcing their friends to sit in a car.
While I thought to myself how I got here and many other nights on multiple occasions. I realized that a lot of other people around me do too. So, whether you needed a friend and wanted to listen to their slightly strange stories or if you can relate to having a lot of nights of ‘’how on earth did I end up here?’’ I hope me telling you my stories will ultimately make you feel less alone, especially when college is already rough.