The New Friday

9 Oct

By Belle

When did Thursday become the new Friday? The answer, as we all know, is college.

So many of those nights began with an innocent text message saying some guys at Theta Chi were going to drink a few beers while watching the game. But those “few beers” turned into tequila shots really fast… Before you knew it, you were one of 80 other people crammed into the kitchen watching that kid from the tennis team do a keg stand for 18 seconds before collapsing on top of his friends.

You hated any person that responded to your mass text by saying “I have to be up early! I have Comm at 9:30”. Really? Do you really need that much focus for a communications class? I don’t think so. This is why you don’t schedule anything before noon on Fridays.

Those were the days… But then we graduated and were forced into growing up.


Suddenly hangovers became a lot more painful. People weren’t so keen on going out super late on a weeknight. Skipping work to lay in bed with a bucket of advil simply wasn’t an option anymore. Maybe it was a sign of maturity? Overall, I thought Thursday nights were lost…

But on the 5th day, God created kickball.

Fan war face of victory reaction

If you live in DC, you what I’m talking about. For those of you who don’t, let’s put it this way: Kickball is how 20-somethings in the district justify making bad decisions. It’s 6+ consecutive weeks of weeknight drinking, shameless flirting, endless rounds of flipcup, and a revival of all those gym class skills you thought you were finished with.

Let me just give you an example for how this past week went…

In the fall, kickball is played at night with glow in the dark bases and balls, and everyone gets to wear glowsticks. Game time is another word for pre-game. It was the bottom of the second inning when the first round of fireball shots were poured. By the end of the game, we were feeling pretty good. Plus, we won. So there was all the more reason to celebrate.

The bar we went to afterwards was packed. There were over 700 people from the different kickball leagues crammed into one place. Which can only lead to good things. Pitchers of budlight began to appear immediately, and after downing the initial glass, the first of many flipcup tournaments ensued. It’s like reliving your Junior year of college post-football game parties.

I have mentioned this already: Shameless flirting.

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There was a guy there from a different team who was mildly interesting. We hit it off – maybe because the drinks kept flowing… To be honest, I’m not quite sure how I ended up deciding it was a smart idea to leave with him. Apparently I told my friend that I was “sober enough” to make this kind of decision. Editor’s Note: I wasn’t.

The next thing I remember is waking up at 5am… on a couch… in MARYLAND.

Freaking Maryland.

Reaction GIF: eye roll, are you kidding me?, despair, Krysten Ritter, Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23 
Judging by the fact that I woke up alone on a couch, I guess that means Drunk Me was a prude. Win.


Luckily the hangover pang didn’t hit immediately, but the disorientation did. Using the light from hallway that fed under the door, I found myself crawling from the couch to what I hoped to be a bathroom. But after barging inside, I came face to face with his roommate. Oops. I can only imagine what I looked like to him. My hair sticking out in a hundred directions, eyes red from sleeping in my contacts, with a glow in the dark necklace wrapped up and down my right arm. Classy.


I then turned my attention to finding my shoes. This proved to be a very difficult task, given the fact that one was on top of the television, but it’s ultimately how I found my “kickball friend” – passed out on his bed. Pulling myself together, I poked him until he woke up and asked where the nearest metro was. Fortunately it was just down the street. Gentleman that he is, there was no offer to walk me there.

Fine by me. Not only does he not get any, he also can’t have my number.

oh snap (28) Animated Gif on Giphy

At roughly this time, the hangover set in. I stumbled down the stairs of his apartment onto the street. However I wasn’t sure if I was walking in the right direction. Clever me thought it would be smart to flag down a car and ask. One car slows down and pulls up next to me. After clarifying that I am in fact going the right way, I begin to turn back. But that’s when the driver says: Hey! You’re that girl from the apartment!

Yup. His roommate.


“Yeah… that’s me. Nice to meet you too.”

I promptly scampered away and caught the next train into the city.

It made me wonder… Am I getting too old for this? As I said, I have had my share of embarrassing Thursday nights. But I thought they were over. Yet, here I am, with my stack of advil (this time at my office instead of my comfy bed), avoiding eye contact with most of my co-workers, and frequently swallowing budlight upchuck (Shut up – you know exactly what I’m talking about).

Dear Thursdays,

Welcome back.


One Response to “The New Friday”


  1. Playing “The Game” | STOP REQUESTED - November 5, 2013

    […] sports”, as most 20-something years old do while living in DC (I am now quite familiar with the #newfridays… OOOF). After three of my bosses informed me that their daughters met their husbands while […]

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