At precisely 3:00 p.m. today, the pestilent tumor that has been accompanying me everywhere for the duration of my senior year will finally be extracted. And by that I mean, my honors thesis will finally be finished, bound, and — Lord have mercy — turned in.
While my first thought was to celebrate the momentous occasion on the spot with my convenient thigh holster flask, I realize that the momentous occasion deserves a little more pomp and circumstance than some quasi-enthusiastic swigs of the old single barrel.
So, my friends, I’ve decided instead to punish my ever-faithful liver with a full six-day Collegetown bar crawl.
The idea behind the bar crawl is simple: Starting this Monday, my trusty roommate and I will be hitting a different Collegetown bar every weeknight. Saturday will top off the event with a much-needed house party designed to rid my respectably tiny three-bedroom apartment of its disproportionately massive supply of half-finished liquor bottles.
Conveniently, Collegetown bars have done the majority of the work for us already. They’ve all conspired, it seems, to scatter their theme nights throughout the week — Ruloff’s on Monday; Stella’s on Tuesday; Fishbowl on Wednesday; Dunbar’s on Thursday; and Pixel on Friday. This convenient combo of ill repute makes for a healthy change of scenery and a not-so-healthy bevvy of mixed beverages to fuel the bar crawl.
Frankly, this idea is so genius I’m surprised it hasn’t made it onto the 161 things to do list yet. Although I imagine imminent alcohol poisoning for most people with normally functioning livers might have something to do with it.
But if you, gentle readers, would like to join me in the Six-Day Bar Crawl or even initiate one of your own, there are a few rules you must heed before embarking on this after-hours adventure.
The first rule of the Six-Day Bar Crawl is that you must be a second-semester senior. I realize that this cuts out a good chunk of the over-21’s at Cornell and a plethora of others that have pretty convincing fake IDs or else are just particularly slutty looking girls.
But answer me this: When else other than second semester senior year can you legitimately go on a six-day bender without being mistaken for an alcoholic? Never, my friends.
Also, frankly, there’s the matter of the underclassman’s inability to control himself long enough to turn the event into a fait accomplit.
Frankly, both your livers and the judgment centers in your brains are simply not developed enough to handle this kind of feat.
The Six-Day Bar Crawl is a marathon, not a sprint. If you can’t limit yourself to one or two drinks a night, you’re never going to make it past Thursday. And even if you can stand to be either hung over or drunk for six days in a row, that kind of behavior defeats the real beauty of the Six-Day Bar Crawl altogether.
Which brings me to the second rule of the Six-Day Bar Crawl: You must not participate in the event through without understanding what exactly you’re trying to accomplish with this juncture.
The real beauty of the Six-Day Bar Crawl is not to see whether you can survive six days in a row of going out. Frankly, anyone with a death wish could probably handle it.
No, my friends, the real beauty behind this marathon of short dresses, heavy makeup, high heels and themed libations is to spend six, concentrated days in a row enjoying your last nights at Cornell with the people you love the most.
The Six-Day Bar Crawl is less about the bars you hit and more about the people you hit them with. If you don’t drink, I’m sure you could just as easily do a Six-Day Bird Watching Extravaganza ... or whatever else people who don’t drink do with their free time.
But the number one prerequisite of the Six-Day Bar Crawl is that you absolutely must surround yourself with the people you love the most, no matter how tired you are, how sore your feet are or even how hung over you feel.
Seniors, these are our last moments to appreciate Cornell. Don’t spend them locked in your room every night of the week. Go out! Enjoy this beautiful campus, this awesome city and yes, even these sticky floored bars, for everything they have to offer.
Cristina Stiller is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Believe You Me appears alternate Mondays this semester.