As I approach my mid-twenties and hang up my shot glasses, I can’t help but reminisce on the #whitegirlwasted days. The nights of reclaimed confidence and stolen dignity, spiralling into yet another deliciously messy tale of #YOLO, featuring most, if not all of the following:
Went too hard during pre’s and didn’t make it out
You’ve over-filled the tank and passed out before 9pm – a rookie mistake that you’ve made more times than you’re proud of. Whoops.
Urinated in an alleyway
Forget basic female etiquette. Also, forget the fact that public urination is against the law and would have nasty repercussions on your bank account if caught in the act, but how could your tequila soaked brain process that at the time?
The tactical vom
Ah, the good old tactical vom. The sneaky or sometimes not so sneaky bathroom escapade – for the sole purpose of creating more room for the beverages you really don’t need, but will consume anyway.
Snuck a flask in your bag
You’ve completed the mission and successfully fooled the bouncers. Winner!
Owned the d-floor
Or at least you felt like you did. You’ve busted every move you know from the shimmy to the slut drop and you’ve walked off the d-floor feeling like a beast. The snap chat evidence reveals otherwise, though.
Serenaded the public with your tone-deaf rendition of Call Me Maybe
It was every intoxicated girl’s anthem from 2012-13. Thank you, Rae Rae for your contribution to womankind.
Became a Woo girl
Don’t deny it. After a couple of shots, you’ve proceeded to celebrate a series of joyful moments with a high pitched Woo that would cringe out any sober individual witnessing this catastrophic transformation.
Professed your love to the world
Who knew you were such an affectionate human being? Tequila did. And it thought it would kindly help you express your feelings. ILY.
Made a new BFF in the toilet
Who knew bathroom queues were the best way to make new friends? Tequila did.
Squeezed too many girls into a cubicle
Another baffling but regular occurrence. The need to pee together? Why?
Revealed a secret
Alcohol really does loosen your tongue. You just can’t wait to bare your soul, even if it is to your uber driver or in some cases, the entire club. Whether it was yours or someone else’s, harbouring that secret was as hard as keeping your tequila-scented vomit down the following morning. Eeek
Been kicked out of the club
Whether it was due to causing a genuine ruckus or harmlessly napping in the corner, you’ve been escorted out of the club (more than once).
Lost your phone
You’ve managed to lose what is usually surgically attached to your hand. Between snap chatting and drunk dialling, your beloved device has slipped out of your drunk fingers, left to fend for itself. Thank Apple for Find My Phone.
Cried a river
At some point of your alcoholic existence, you have found yourself sobbing into a bag of fries, claiming the not too glamorous title of that crying drunk girl. Blame that bottle of Gin you downed for unleashing your feelings, every single one of them.
Became besties with the Uber driver
Forget the gals in the bathroom, your Uber driver is your new bestie/therapist for life. He or she knows all of your deepest and darkest secrets.
Eaten more processed food than you’re proud of
Calories? What calories? 5 sausage rolls, snack boxes, and cheeseburgers to go thanks. Sober you would be appalled.
Walked barefoot around the CBD
With stiletto heels in one hand and a Cheeseburger in another, you have shamelessly and fearlessly stumbled across the city shoeless. The fear of contracting diseases clearly wasn’t on your radar.
Pulled a Cinderella
Your desire to be barefoot is mystifying. Your desire to hold things is nonexistent, hence, your tendency to lose your possessions, from your phone to your wallet to your shoes.
That moment of terror that washes over your mascara smeared face as you scroll through your weekend message history, all the while trying to keep your Sunday hash brown down. It’s somewhat humorous now, but at the time, you were seriously pondering hibernating in a cave for 6 months or moving to Antarctica. Both very viable options.
Woken up the next morning with mysterious bruises
You’ve woken up like a bruised banana with no clue how it happened. In fact, some of your battle scars still remain a mystery.
Called in sick
Whether it was strategically done the night before or the morning of, you’ve shamelessly pulled a sickie, claiming an episode of food poisoning and sincerely praying afterward that karma doesn’t bite you in the ass.
And that’s a wrap, ladies! 21 questionable things we’ve all done on a regular night out, but can safely say has brought a sufficient amount of lols to compensate for the sheer embarrassment of it all.