I Guess I’m Just More Of A Feel-Objectified-And-Powerless At Rick’s Kinda Girl

Sometimes after a long week of classes, work, and studying, all I really want to do is go out with my girlfriends, have a few too many drinks, and dance the night away. It’s such a fun way to let go of stress and socialize with some of my favorite people. By the end of the night, we’ll inevitably end up at either Rick’s or Skeeps, and don’t get me wrong, they both have their perks. But ultimately, I have to admit, I’d rather feel objectified and powerless at Rick’s than at Skeeps any day.

Sure, there’s nothing like standing at the bar at Skeeps while men demand you take a shot of tequila with them, but you can only be told that you should “lick the salt off your friend” so many times before the unfairness of having to deal with this every time you go out gets to you. The mind probes at Rick’s are so expensive that men try to pay for them a lot less often, so you can sometimes catch a break from this by heading to South U.

I always have such high hopes for a Friday night out. I love getting ready with friends, maybe trying a new lipstick shade, and hoping we hear our favorite songs. I just prefer to have that facade shattered by a boy who insists on trying to dance with me even though I’m standing perfectly still inside my friends’ protective circle at Rick’s, rather than at Skeeps.

Yeah, it’s nice to be followed around by a clearly forty-year-old man all night at Skeeps, but does anything really compare to being swarmed by a group of guys at Rick’s telling you it’s their friend’s birthday and “he deserves a dance?” Not in my book. It’s just not the same to be told you owe a man physical contact at that dingy bar all the way on Maynard St.

And yes, I admit there’s nothing like getting completely fed up and throwing a pitcher of long islands on a boy who won’t leave your friend alone on the Skeeps dance floor, but there are just so many more places to hide from men entirely at Rick’s. Why get so desperate and upset that you have to react like that, when you can just find a dark corner to skulk in for the rest of the night?

So bottom line is, if it’s my friend’s birthday or something and she really wants to go be nonconsenually groped by every guy who walks by us at Skeeps, I’ll tag along, but I would much prefer to be at Rick’s, getting yelled at and called rude by boys for not giving them my number.

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