Step 1: Arrive at the front door and have the bouncer stare at your I.D. for way longer than normal. Looks like your pre-teen attempt at a beard makes you look like an idiot they don’t want in the bar. Either that or they don’t know how to do birthday math. Probably a combination of the two.
Step 2: Stand in the entrance for a while, trying to figure out how to maneuver through the crowd. After a while, you’ll either A) have your ass literally freeze off with the cold air coming in behind you, or B) treat that group of sorority girls in front of you like bowling pins: they’re thin, they’re white, and you’re about to plow through them like a fucking bowling ball. Because you need a drink.
Step 3: You made it to the bar. This doesn’t mean shit. Stand around for a while, pretending you’re deciding what to drink when, really, the bartender is only paying attention to the hot girls and all you want is your Keystone.
Step 4: Make eye contact with the bartender and DO NOT LET GO. No matter what happens, just continue staring at him. This will have one of two effects: 1) He realizes that you are serious, you need a drink, and you’re not going to leave him alone until you get one, or 2) You will do ANYTHING for a drink. And if he’s into it, and you need that drink badly enough, do not hesitate. You’ve gotta get it somehow.
Step 5: You’re still standing at the bar. The bartender has ignored your advances, despite your ever-so-subtle shirt lift and the fact that you’re winking at him more than an epileptic. And now some douchebag behind you thinks he can slide in front of you. Wrong. Find someone near you with a beer and “accidentally” bump that person into the douchebag. Whoops. He’s got beer all over him and he is pissed. They take it outside and you have your spot back. But you still haven’t gotten a beer.
Step 6: Ok, that person is clearly coming back for a third time, there’s no way she’s getting served before me again”¦SON OF A BITCH!
Step 7: Hold up a twenty-dollar bill and scream to the bartender, “I don’t even want a drink anymore! Just acknowledge me! Hello! Twenty dollars to acknowledge me! Do you want it?!”
Step 8: Go to the ATM. The bartender took your twenty and you don’t have anymore cash.
Step 9: You’re back and”¦surprise! The bar has emptied out a little bit! You make your way to the bar when”¦the music stops. Two o’clock. Closing time. You should have gone with your buddy to that lingerie party on Euclid. But it’s not all lost. At least the bartender gave you his number and told you to call him. Whether you’re gay or not, I’d pursue.
