Simone Virzi, Special To Southern News:
Wednesday night was all about decisions; what outfit to rock, what shoes to put on, how many shots to take. After my friends and I decided we were all ready, we made our way to SoCo’s. The bar was super crowded, but the music was pretty good, and the drink specials weren’t too shabby either. The next morning, I would wake up with a hangover and a lovely blue bruise on my foot, about the size of a plum. I went out with my friends to have a good time, not to be injured by some drunk asshole.
A few drinks in at the bar, one of my friends and I had to go to use the bathroom. Beer in hand, we literally waited for at least 20 minutes to use one of the two stalls the bar had in the girls’ bathroom. I was standing in line, legs crossed, trying not to pee myself. Even though I was antsy, I was not pushing my way ahead of other girls in front of me, the way one girl did. Behind my friend was a tall girl, minding her own business, waiting to relieve herself like the rest of us. Some short girl was saying tall girl and her friend were cutting her in line, even though short girl was the one cutting. She had such a bad attitude; I think she inhaled as many times as she rolled her eyes. These two girls were arguing for a while; as annoying as it was, I was glad short girl wasn’t all up in my face. But was this arguing really necessary? Negative. Stop the bickering and let me wait in line in peace.
Later on, I was inside dancing with a really cute guy. We kept getting shoved; his Coke and rum ended up on my jeans. The place was packed, so we thought it would be better to go outside to the patio. As we were trying to make our way, another fight broke out, except this time it was between two guys and they were actually fighting. I just wanted to go outside! Somehow I managed to get a front view. Cute guy was holding me back so I stayed out of the way of this nonsense, but I still got kicked in the shins and my knee. The icing on the cake was when one of the guys fighting backed up and stepped on my right foot, hard. I was immediately in pain, and knew I would end up with a fabulous bruise. What were these two morons fighting about anyway? A spilled drink, a girl? Who the hell knows, but there’s a good chance it was over something dumb. The big bad security dudes showed up and broke it up; I saw one of the guys getting carried out, his arms and legs restrained. You guys are too cool for fighting in a bar; very original!
Another fight broke out almost immediately afterward between two girls over who knows what. I personally did not see it but one of my friends said there was definitely hair-pulling involved. A few minutes later, the lights came on, which is code for “get the hell out.” Cute guy and I walked outside to leave, only to be welcomed by eight cop cars, both New Haven and “SoCo’s,” which is jargon for Southern cops. It was just after 12:30 a.m. Seriously, what was with all the fighting? Does everyone in New Haven need anger management, or do these morons think they look totally badass for fighting in front of a bunch of people?
Even though the night ended early, we still had a good time; there are few things better than having a few drinks and dancing with friends. Now, if only people didn’t act like total assholes when they’re drunk, it would be better. Then again, it gives the cops something to do, and something for me to write about. It’s funny though, one of my friends goes through the “I love you!” phase all the time when drinking. Why can’t more people be like that? Instead of punching each other, let’s drink, dance, then go back home and enjoy a grilled cheese sandwich.
