Divas

Every Wednesday night the rugby team goes to this gay bar in town called Divas. I had never gone before, I had never been invited, but last week one of the girls turned eighteen, and so there was a Facebook event, and I decided that this was the closest to a real invite that I was going to get. I'm so desperate for the team to accept me into their clique that I keep redrawing the line for what I'm willing to do, and so I redrew it and decided to go out on a Wednesday night, even though I have a 9 am Thursday class. Being invited to the bar is the easy part, pre-gaming proved to be a challenge. The Facebook event said to pre-game at your own discretion,
which pretty much meant you were on your own for getting alcohol. I was ok with that, but I didn't have anyone to hang out with before going, so I was going to have to walk over by myself and hope that people didn't leave for this mystery bar without me. It didn't seem worth it, but after a bracing phone call with my mom I decided to bite the bullet and go for it. I showered (with a brief fire drill interruption) and then watched Dirty Dancing until it was time to go. The rugger from my house actually came by to get me though, so I was included in pre-gaming activities, which made me happy. Divas is not actually very fun. I love a good drag queen as much as the next person, but $12 is a lot to pay for a cover for a bar where all the men are gay. I don't think I'm going to make a habit of going, and it made me a little homesick for the IB.
The best part of the evening actually came the next morning. I woke up to find the underage X's on my hands had transferred to my face, giving me a nice beatnik beard. It washed off (thank God) so I didn't have to go to class like that, but it gave me quite a start when I first looked in the mirror.