Happy Fourth of July! Okay, it’s no longer the fourth but it’s close enough. Every day should be Independence Day, right? And what better way to celebrate than with copious amounts of alcohol. Drinking for ‘MERICA.
My Independence Day shenanigans got underway on Wednesday night when my roommate and I were pressed for time and decided it was a good a idea to line up a bunch of shot glasses and rip four shots back to back to back to back and then leave. I have never gotten so drunk so quickly before in my life. Once my roommate (who for the sake of this article I will call Annie) and I reached our friends’ house, our bad decisions were quickly met with another one–let’s take America shots! YES! What a great idea!
Let me back up a second though to explain something. From the first Wednesday night I’ve spend in Ithaca this summer, my friends and I have deemed Wednesdays to be “Bad Decisions Wednesdays” (or #baddecisionswednesdays if you will). So let’s just say that Wednesdays are usually an interesting night up here on the hill.
But I digress. So we’re taking shots and playing Kings and basically just ringing in the Fourth of July in a good old American manner. Finally we decide it’s a good idea to leave my friends air conditioned room (which is never a good idea. Air conditioning is like the laughter of Jesus) and go to our favorite local dive bar in Collegetown, Dunbar’s. This bar has been around for decades–no really, I was talking to someone during reunion weekend who loved going there in the 80s–and proof of that is from the walls covered in written names and quotes that are dated with graduation years. Oh, and the jukebox music. That thing hasn’t been updated since I’ve come to Cornell. Wait…what? I just turned 21 and wouldn’t know what Dunbar’s was like my freshman year? …uh, duh, you’re right. Yikes.
I”m going to spare you the details, for both yours and Annie’s sakes, but, basically, what had potential to be an amazing night ended in a bust and the end kinda sucked. I’m standing there with Annie, thinking “I want to do something crazy,” and when I say thinking I mean that I was drunk and I actually said it, only for her to look at me like I was crazy. But then I said, “Let’s streak across the Arts Quad! 161 Things, right??” to which she immediately agreed and we started trekking all the way to the clocktower.
On the way there, Annie starts to get nervous. Especially when two pretty intoxicated people are walking up Ho Plaza (yes, it is actually called Ho Plaza) to get to the Arts Quad only to pass two Cornell policemen writing tickets to a group of students. Actually though, I think that was the reason we were able to get away with it–the cops were distracted so we could shed our skivvies and streak across the quad in what was quite possible one of the most freeing experiences ever. So we dropped our drawers, took off our shoes, picked them up, and sprinted across the quad to Goldwin Smith Hall, the only building on campus open 24 hours.
After fits on fits on fits of laughter finally subsided (oh, and after we put our clothes back on), we headed home, not a cop in sight, with yet another of the 161 things checked off.