Your Second White Claw Wants You to Know That You Literally Aren't Drunk Yet, Calm Down
There’s nothing like an alcohol-fueled night to get you to let loose and forget about the anxiety disorder that usually leaves you incapable of ordering a pizza over the phone, let alone dancing in front of strangers. We’ve all been there; sometimes it feels nice to have various substances as an excuse for your messy and embarrassing behavior rather than your own lack of coordination and penchant for mild chaos. But some people, after no more than a whiff of some spiked seltzer, take their inebriated antics a bit too far, and White Claws everywhere are sick and tired of taking the blame.
“Somehow, after no more than three sips, she left me feeling totally empty,” said freshman Melissa Collins’ mango-flavored White Claw, resting on the lonely fold-out table of a dorm room pregame. “I watched her chug her first victim and crush it, before tossing it into a recycling bin. Kind of a weak, grim way to go, but somehow this feels worse. She set me down after a few gulps and before I knew it she was already going on about how she was ‘sooooo drunk’ and holding the other attendees hostage with Too Much Information about her ex, who she was allegedly ‘totally over at this point.’ How does she think that makes me feel? Not only is she falsely blaming me for her inebriation, but now I just have to sit here and watch while my carbonation goes to waste. It’s ridiculous. What am I to her? A Truly?”
“She does this every time,” said freshman Stevie Moreland, self-proclaimed mom friend and unfortunate companion to Collins. “We show up to the pregame and it takes 15 minutes max before she’s reminding everyone why people hate freshmen. One drink deep, and it’s ‘I hate Alex,’ ‘do you think Alex is gonna be at The Strip tonight?’ and ‘oh my god this skirt is his favorite color.’ Then there’s some ugly crying that no amount of hard liquor could excuse or erase from my memory. It’s exhausting. She makes up for it by being a surprisingly proficient beer pong partner, though. Otherwise, I’d probably just start being ‘too busy’ to come out. I’ve started switching out her White Claws for La Croix’s just to see if she’d notice. She hasn’t.”
If not for the sake of your friends’ sanity, your RAs peace on Friday nights or your own dignity, think of the poor White Claws that take the fall every day to justify messy bitch behavior. No one deserves to endure your barely tipsy theatrics and the Claws don't deserve to take the blame for it either. There are likely other, less annoying ways to express yourself than under the influence of 5% alcohol content. Maybe start keeping a diary, see a therapist, or take a yoga class. If all else fails, just stay home.