the night that never happened.

My friend Kate and I went abroad together this summer. Since I wasn't 21 yet, it was my first opportunity to buy alcohol and consume it legally. So we did it. A lot. By the end of the trip, we had a huge frat life collection of bottles.

This pattern of behavior has only gotten worse since we've been back at school. We keep saying that our senior year is the year most people have as freshmen. Sorry we're not sorry.

Anyway, on Saturday nights our sorority doesn't serve dinner, so my friends and I always go out somewhere together. On this past Saturday, Kate and I decided to head to Filippo's on College in Berkeley (so.freakin.good), enticed by the promises of full tummies and bottomless wine.

So Kate and I ordered our wine and drank. and drank. and drank. I guess neither of us realized how much we had consumed, because by the time we got home we were drunk drunk drunk. It was approximately 8 PM. We had all these fun plans for the night. And guess what we did instead? Went to bed. Because we were far too drunk to go anywhere else.

Moral of the story? Bottomless wine shouldn't be bottomless.

Next time I'll stick with one glass, thanks.