It's 9am on Saturday and as usual, you're still recovering from Friday night. You have a 15-page term paper for your German-Jewish Relations course, which is long overdue, and the parental units are coming up for dinner tonight. You open up your Macbook with the intention of cranking out a few paragraphs.
Wait, it's warm outside? Tour de Franzia at noon? Your buddy just bought two matching neon jumpsuits? DAY DRINK!
You embark for grassy knolls bejeweled by red Solo cups, filled with an array of people from the bizarre to the belligerent. I present you, the 6 Most Disastrous Day Drinking Stereotypes.
The Over-Dressed Sorority Girl
For some reason, this slut knowingly goes to a "slap the bag" party with her hair curled, wearing an expensive printed summer dress, which very quickly becomes little more than a liquor-soaked bib. Despite the dried blood on her forehead from having faceplanted during her last keg stand, she remains somewhat charming: she laughs at your jokes, doesn't talk too much, and looks good enough that you'd hit that upon crossing the drunk threshold.
But beware, this bitch has an attitude. After you tell her it's time to give the vodka bottle a rest, she becomes incredibly defensive. "You don't know me! Don't tell me what to do, asshole!" she yells at the top of her voice amongst the crowd. You're humiliated, and you know that you should just walk away… but you're drunk and horny so you try to calm her down. But it's a lost cause. After another drunken tirade, you become convinced that even if you could get her into bed, her vagina probably has teeth anyway.
The Stoner
You probably won't encounter this guy until you creep inside the house adjacent to the party to take a leak. Although he is a good drinker and quite the conversationalist, he has become distracted by his abundant supply of weed. Caution yourself; he is very generous. After standard illicit behavior (getting blazed), you both will now be situated on the couch for the remainder of the day. Although smoking from that multi-colored 4-foot bong may look appealing at first, think wisely. While doing so will make a Crunch and Munch seem so much more appetizing, it will also cost you your spot on the undefeated flip cup team. Decisions, decisions….
The Frat Groupie
This chick is often marked by her sex hair and walk of shame attire. The only reason she was invited to this party is because she woke up at the frat house where it's taking place. Guys, be careful if she approaches you. She will probably offer you a beer and know exactly what you want to hear. No, she is not a Steelers fan, nor is her cousin their water boy. In reality, that jersey she's wearing belongs to the guy she slept with last night. Unless you want a cotton swab shoved up your burning urethra, stay clear of this slampiece.
The Frat Star
"I LOVE DAY DRINKING!" he screams to his bros, followed by excessive woofing. "I'm raging all day!"
Wrong.
Like the stoner, this guy loves the couch. And once he has successfully vomited tequila down the front of his Vineyard Vines T, that's where you'll find him: unconscious. But girls, be warned: before this sixth-year senior can ask you to accompany him to pleasure town, you're already headed there. Prior to his pass out, he will try luring you into his widely renowned sex lounge. Don't fall for his impressive life plan as an entrepreneur and false promises of inviting you to Fratlinburg; frankly, he's still in love with his much-better-looking ex-girlfriend.
The Jerk
"Drink, pussy!" he yells at you, while claiming that only douchers don't double-fist. He throws you another beer; you roll your eyes and oblige. He can easily be spotted amongst the crowd by his cut-off high school football practice jersey, raging biceps, and vague Chinese symbol tattooed on the back of his wimpy calf muscle.
Just relax; if there's one thing he knows, it's women. Sike! This guy perpetually scares women away faster than the Duke lacrosse team. If you at all aspire to get laid today, avoid this donkey like the clap… which, ironically, he already has.
You
Seeing that you have yet to pass out, you begin considering the possibility that you might be Clark Kent. Because of your newfound invincibility, you challenge your much-less-intoxicated friend to a causal game of "Who can chug the most Popov." It's only 40 proof, how much harm could it do?
Tisk tisk, you forgot that Mom and Dad are coming at 6pm to meet you for dinner. You show up to dinner entirely shit-hammered. Halfway through the meal, you throw up on your father's steak and call your mother a whore. Congratulations, your parents cut you off. You are forced to drop out and take up a job as the temperature recorder at the dining hall salad bar. Nice one, you successfully screwed up.