Millions of years from now, the alien archaeologists of the future will dig up countless bars and conclude that they must have been some kind of ritualistic, mind-altering mating temples. There will be overwhelming evidence that bars were a necessary part of human life and that people from every social class flocked to them. The more you go to bars, the more you start to notice that some of the girls you see are recurring themes.
The embarrassing drunk. Maybe it’s her birthday, maybe she tried to go shot-for-shot with people three times her size or maybe alcohol is her therapist. Whatever her reasons are for drinking tonight, this girl is so unbelievably hammered that you physically cringe at her every move. She says moronic things, trips on air and comes back from her many trips to the bathroom with vomit trickling delicately down her chin. Classy.
The orange monster. This chick is uncomfortably “tan.” She is clearly incapable of turning down a spray tan and it appears as if she has eight bottles of self tanner on her face alone. She looks like the entire cast of Jersey Shore had an orgy in Cheeto dust with Oompa Loompas. None of her friends tell her that she’s leaving streaky orange hand prints on every glass she touches.
The painfully desperate. This winner wants attention so badly that she’ll make a complete ass of herself to get it. All attention is good attention to her and she has fewer standards than the U.S. education system. She stares longingly at every guy in her vicinity and will do anything to keep them interested if they do decide to approach.
The obnoxious partier. This lady parties hard and wants everyone to know it. She pounds back countless shots of cheap tequila throughout the night and screeches “WOOOOOO!!” after each one. It is unclear if she’s trying to impress everyone or make them fear for the fate of mankind. She often travels in heavily-perfumed packs of other obnoxious party girls. Their olfactory senses are finely tuned to sniff out more cheap tequila.
The emotional drunk. After one too many pomegranate strawberry cherry apple berry margaritas, this girl becomes an overly sensitive wreck and spills her guts to anyone who will listen. She cries every time she drinks. She cries until there is no fluid left in her body and then cries some more. She is completely baffled when no one wants to talk to her and her friends stop inviting her out.
The weird loner. This girl smells like mothballs and a Lifetime movie marathon. She is sitting alone at the bar and simultaneously looks like she’ll kill anyone who talks to her, yet she’s dying for some human interaction. This strange combination prevents other patrons from approaching her at all, so she spends the night texting her cats.
The shameless flirt. This class act makes big goo goo eyes at every male specimen with a pulse. Her sense of self-worth is based strictly on the attention she gets from guys, so she unabashedly throws herself at anyone with a penis. When a cocky douchebag smugly tells her a terrible joke, she flirtatiously touches his forearm and laughs like a hyena on meth. When a married man flashes his ring finger and tells her to GTFO, she giggles, bites her bottom lip and writes her number down on a napkin. Watch out, we got a real badass over here.
The picture bitch. This camera-wielding nightmare is going to take pictures of EVERYTHING. Every time you look in her direction, she and her friends are smiling into a smartphone with their faces pressed against each other as if they were melted together in a radioactive waste accident. She takes pictures of her drinks. She takes pictures of her shoes. She takes pictures of the straw she found on the floor. She takes pictures of her pictures. She needs as many pictures as possible so she can upload them and fish for compliments online. How exotic her life must be.
The ex-boyfriend caller. This girl is hammered before the sun goes down and won’t shut up about her ex. No matter where the conversation goes, she will find a way to change the topic back to him. She starts off by insulting him but then becomes more affectionate and longing the drunker she gets. Eventually, amid a sea of eye rolling and frustrated sighing, she announces that she misses her ex and is going to call him and no don’t worry it’s totally fine he won’t care. Barf.
The obvious alcoholic. It’s 2:00 p.m. and this girl has already had six drinks. She claims that she can’t even feel them and orders another one from the bartender, who already has one waiting for her. She has no problem announcing how much vodka she goes through in a week. It isn’t difficult to picture her letting out a bloodcurdling shriek when she spills a drink and then desperately sucking the booze off of the floor.
The clueless mommy. Yes, your eyes are functioning correctly. This woman brought her small child into the bar with her. She lets the kid run amok while she smiles at him adoringly from her table, sipping on her lemon drop martini. For some reason, she thinks an establishment full of liquor and drunk people is a child-friendly place. She tells other patrons to watch their language around her precious snowflake, gets pissed at the bartender for not having Juicy Juice and blows up at people who dare to question her parenting. She will likely write a nasty review of the bar on Yelp in addition to a wordy Facebook post about how difficult it is to be a mother.
The entitled brat. This defective tragedy feels that she shouldn’t have to pay for drinks because she has a vagina. She sits around and waits for someone to offer to buy her a drink and then ditches him when the glass is firmly in her hand. She does this repeatedly throughout the night until everyone catches on and shuns her. She leaves the bar wondering why she’s still single because surely, her attitude towards paying for her own alcohol has nothing to do with it. Baffled, she plans her next night out.
The people watcher. This girl is drama-free and is perfectly content to sit back and watch alcohol-induced hilarity unfold. She just wants a cold beer and some free entertainment. She sits with her equally drama-free friends and mocks the crippling idiocy of some of the other patrons. They get some good laughs, talk amongst themselves and leave without causing a ruckus. The bartender wishes they would stay longer so he wouldn’t have to face the teeming horde of wasted nitwits by himself.
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