Maturity? Whaaaa?

Saturday nights are routinely a highlight of my weekend. Since I graduated, got a job and began this game of growing up I take my weekends pretty seriously. I have exactly 48 hours to relive my college days of bar hopping and making some very silly memories. When my lovelies and I first got to the big ATL I truly believe we lived freshmen year all over, eagerly trying to drink our weight in alcohol just to prove to ourselves that a full time job and salary had not taken away our ability to party.

Now that I’m maturing (ha) those crazy nights have calmed a bit. This past weekend I wondered into Buckhead bars cold stone sober and boy is that always an experience. On this particular occasion, I spent the large majority of the night people watching. A girl in a tight black dress – which, speaking from experience, was probably really hot when she soberly got ready five hours before - now was misplaced on her body as she ever-so-sexily danced in a courtyard which she deemed the dance floor. (Later I saw her attempting to give a lap dance on the fountain – it wasn’t pretty).

My favorite part were the pick up lines being handed out to me and my lovely. I can’t believe girls actually fall for that kind of stuff (I’m guilty myself so this is more a shame-on-me comment). This further validated the fact that though bars are a great weekend activity, I hope to never fall in love with anyone I meet there.