The Cavalier Daily
Are you there, sobriety? It’s me, blackout
Alice N. Drunkenland Student with cell phone
A University student described her experience at bars last weekend in detail saying, “I don’t remember anything.” She then elaborated saying, “I was literally blackout. Like, so blackout. I don’t remember any of it.” The term “literally blackout,” which is now used often around Grounds and can mean anything from having one beer to actually vomiting outside Toros, describes what many students experience on a weekly basis. When in this state of “blackout,” students often find themselves using their phones to do things their more sober selves would not approve of. This includes (but is not limited to) taking embarrassing or inappropriate pictures, posting said pictures on social media, updating their Twitter statuses and — worst of all — texting their exes.
waiting for a response, angry at yourself for sending anything, and letting your friends know exactly just how pissed you are. “Jason didn’t text me back. Seriously f*** him. My text was, like, so normal, right? Ew who does he think he is? Right? I’m not crazy? Right?” Your friends will tell you you’re not crazy, but the truth is, you are. Jason unfortunately won’t find the “taco” text alluring. And if he does, and he responds, you’ll probably still be mad because when you sober up you’ll realize there was some reason you two broke up and that reason Let’s be honest, who hasn’t gone out on a Thursday probably still exists. and thought, at around 2am, that RIGHT NOW So here’s my would be a good time to text an ex?” solution. We can end the embarwonder while you hit send on a rassment and anger that comes text containing the word “taco” with drunk texts to exes by getand two monkey Emojis. You ting to the root of the problem: then forget you sent the text and our cell phones. At the door, carry on with your night, only to while the bouncer barely glances wake up the next morning to the at your very real ID, you should embarrassment and shame that also hand him your cell phone. follows such sloppy texting. Or He should then place the phone you spend the rest of the night in a bucket next to the entrance,
Let’s be honest, who hasn’t gone out on a Thursday and thought, at around 2am, that RIGHT NOW would be a good time to text an ex? Messages such as “I miss you” or more often “I misnahhh youw” are sent at these dark times — when, while in the depths of Trinity, music blaring and sweaty people spilling their drinks on you, you think fondly of the happy times you and your significant other used to have. “Why did we break up?” you
where you can come find it before you leave. This is a surefire solution and is one hundred per-
cent infallible, though theft may occur. Additionally, those with Droids, BlackBerrys and even the real old schoolers with Razrs will have an advantage here for once, as their phones will be easier to find among the 400+ iPhones. To all the rest of you conformists, godspeed. I know it sounds like a lot of work, but there’s really no better way to solve this rampant problem. If there were, like, maybe an app that kept us from using our phones drunk or something sim-
ilar, I’d know about it. Obviously. Therefore, we should implement this immediately, for the sake of every University student who has logged onto Facebook the morning after going out and seen pictures of themselves midshotgun, middle finger up, eyes barely open. Or opened their SnapChat to find they sent a snap to every one of their contacts, but can’t remember what it was. Or seen humiliating Tweets they wrote, often incorporating meaningful song lyrics, for example, “I came in like a wrecking ball.” Or, of course, seen the texts they sent their ex last night. This cycle needs to end. Phones at bars just create too many problems. Let’s stop the selfies and the texts and uphold the motto, “What happens on the Corner between the hours of 12am and 3am... stays there.” Let’s be real, no amount of Emojis or misspelled words are going to help you get your boo back. So put down the phone and go home. You’re drunk. Alice N. Drunkenland is a University student who has sent (more than) a few regretful text messages
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