There’s a pounding in my head-

-but there was no stranger in my bed after last Friday night’s bar crawl through Christopher Street. I did, however, wake up with scratch marks on my inside arm. My friends and I kicked off our annual West Village bar crawl at Rock Bar on Christopher Street and by the third bar I was knocking back shots like my life depended on it. The game is simple: accumulate the most points throughout the night by ordering a beer for one point, a cocktail for two points, and a shot for three points. I was only aiming for twenty-one points that night, but forgot to go to the referees after my fourth shot of the night.

Earlier that day I purchased the white shirt we were encouraged to adorn during the bar crawl, skipping lunch because I make smart decisions. By the time I arrived to the event, the only thing I ate that day was a bagel in the morning, so I was in for a rough night. Participants of the bar crawl started the night with a plain white shirt that would be marked by official referees for each alcoholic beverage purchased during the annual bar crawl for charity. The shirts would gradually be decorated by other participants throughout the night, including your nickname chosen for you by your friends. This year I was dubbed “Sticky Rice” for my overwhelming preference for other Asians.

This was my first year attending the event, and I learned my lesson: don’t try to compete with these booze-hounds! The social aspect of bar crawls is a fun way to meet a variety of different people, and I had fun scribbling all over the shirts of cute boys. The hashtag I decided to use was #iTaggedEli, and it was a fun way to keep track of my favorite participants throughout the night. Here are some of my favorite shirts:

See y’all again next year! But we should get dinner beforehand.

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