Tonight I got a text message from my friend that said she was at a bar in West Chester celebrating WCU's homecoming and that the floor she was standing on was covered in broken Corona bottles and limes. On the one hand, this was a fun text that made me laugh and text back something along the lines of "miss that!" and then go raid my stinky refrigerator for a beer or five so that i could pretend to relive my college days - none of which featured Coronas by the way. Where are these kids getting their money? We were lucky to have Natty Lights - normally we hung out at the corner bar that sold 50 cent beers out of miniature sized beer mugs most likely washed in lukewarm day-old dishwater. Even my present lifestyle doesn't include Corona beers seeing as I made the massive step up to Coors Light upon getting a job that paid marginally more than my rent and my car note combined. Digressing... I am drinking Coors Light.
On the other, much more promiment, hand, this was a sad text that made me miss living in the Northeast where the majority of my friends are. If I was there, I would be out at the bar pretending to be 20 again and celebrating Homecoming, the significance of which I have never understood. But I don't, so I'm not. Which is probably a good thing but I do miss my friends. Maybe I would miss them a little less if stupid Hurricane Irene had not screwed up my plans to visit them this summer. Speaking of which, I have a pack of 12 custom coozies that say "Anchor Splash 2011 - Avalon, NJ" on them sitting on my kitchen counter that I never got to give out - too bad my friend Paco does not have one to stick her Corona and lime in right now.
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