It’s a Saturday night. You kick off the evening by inviting two of your closest friends, Jenna and Charlotte, over for a pre-game at your apartment.
Jenna and Charlotte show up and look very hot. You look fine—like, “hot for you” hot. These two will objectively be two of the most beautiful women at the bar. Where do they even find clothes that fit them like this? You have ONE going out outfit and it’s just a black top you bought at Urban Outfitters back in 2013.
Jenna looks in the mirror and somewhat pouts adorably because she “doesn’t feel cute.” Oh, Jenna, you gentle dove. Absurd. Luckily she has three other tops and four different bras that she can rotate until she’s satisfied. Why do hot people always have so many bras? Is this a nature versus nurture issue? How do they know things?
The three of you are drunk enough to want to take photos. At least one out of the three of you is deliberately publicizing this photo shoot on social media to get back at someone. Charlotte sneezes in the middle of one of the photos but literally looks so incredible doing it, it gets posted with the caption being like “lol Charlotte!!!!” How is it legal for someone to look attractive without trying?
Right before the Uber comes, you all ramble through the usual checklist of necessary items for a night out: phone, ID, credit card, gum, maybe a lighter. Charlotte says something cute like, “Oh, I’m just bringing my ID.” The unspoken second half of her sentence is “because I’ve never paid for my own drinks.” You stuff cash into your purse, just in case Charlotte can’t sneak you any of the gin and tonics men literally trip over themselves buying for her.
You arrive and immediately head to the bar. For Jenna and Charlotte, this is just a fun night out with the ladies!!!! For you, this is another night where you’re going to be swatting off men from your two hot best friends. You should start a business. Everyone needs to get drunk.
Jenna is immediately cornered by some very sweaty man who is desperately trying to make her laugh by just shouting things. She’s politely smiling, but keeps darting her eyes over to you. You silently understand that you may have to go over and break them up at any second. There is nothing men fear more than the hot girl’s friend coming over to join the conversation. It is the universal code for Game Over.
Meanwhile, you are subtly third wheeling some other sweaty guy trying to buy out the bar for Charlotte. The guy had boldly approached Charlotte alone, unaware you were on the other side of her—made evident by his face falling slightly when Charlotte introduced you. His name is Steve. You smile sadly at Steve. Poor guy.
Charlotte quietly excuses herself from the bar to scurry to the bathroom and Steve turns around to see you waiting in her place. He awkwardly hands you the drink intended for Charlotte and you just look at him like, yeah, Steve, my hot friend went to the bathroom for two minutes and you’re stuck with me holding her drink until then, so why don’t you pick up where you left off and explain your 401k to me and I’ll fill Charlotte in later.
Jenna gives you the signal by nodding her head slightly while sweaty guy is checking his phone. You take the drink Steve had bought for Charlotte and abandon him without a word. Steve presumably pretends to check his phone before leaving the bar to find his friends. He’ll be back.
Jenna does the whole “oooOoOOoooOOOOohhhhh heeeeeeeey, Adam, this is my very good friend—she is sooooooo funny” introduction for you and you purse your lips as you shake Adam’s sweaty hand. You look deep into his eyes and tell him telepathically that his efforts from the last 25 minutes of small talk are officially squashed now that you’ve arrived. He knows. Jenna pets his arm and asks him to buy you a drink. You smile at him sweetly as he screams internally and takes out his wallet.
Adam does a valiant effort at trying to confidently hit on Jenna, as you interject and try to ruin the conversation. You can’t help but quietly admire how hard he’s trying to ignore you. Jenna is very talented at fake laughing. You are very talented at making Adam as miserable as possible.
Charlotte resurfaces back into your line of sight as two guys escort her to the bar for drinks. You will scream if she tries to introduce you to one of them. You can take one for the team and third wheel, but entertaining a whole person is exhausting.
Charlotte calls for you across the bar. You pretend you can’t hear because you are instead enraptured by Adam explaining how Charles Bukowski saved his life during his sophomore year at Amherst.
As predicted, Steve returns. He is 58% more drunk and 200% more annoying. Charlotte is now trying to politely talk to three different men at once as they all try to shout over each other.
Adam tells Jenna she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. You are literally standing two inches away from her. You thank him at the same time she does.
Charlotte, overwhelmed and incredibly irritated, hides in the bathroom again. Her go-to move. The two strangers and Steve lurk around the bar for her return. You can already feel tomorrow morning’s hangover.
You’ve been watching Steve leave and come back to the bar for almost 20 minutes. Jenna grabs your hand and smiles at you, which means she’s had enough and wants to leave, but wants you to make something up for Adam.
You say something to the extent of “heeeeeeeeeey Adam, this has been great, but we should get going because my apartment is on fire and Jenna needs to come with me to save my valuables.” Jenna smiles apologetically at him and Adam looks at you like he’d like to smash his beer bottle onto your head. You wish him luck on that app he wants to start.
Charlotte comes out of hiding and nearly strangles you with her urgency. She frantically whispers that you all need to leave right now—in a way that sounds like she just murdered someone and needs to escape the scene of the crime. Instead, arguably even worse than getting caught for murder, she’s just trying to avoid Steve.
You’re all on your way home. Charlotte and Jenna both lean their beautiful heads on your shoulders. You dream of ordering food and falling asleep to Netflix.