The Bar Crawl

I decided to go on this bar crawl, which was my very first ever.  I was a little reluctant to go, because I wasn't sure who I would talk to and I find myself trying hard to not make a bother of myself.
I had dinner first with a group of girls, some of whom I had taken classes.  I even got a few hugs.  One of the girls sitting next to me had won a study-abroad scholarship and was going to Spain in the fall. 
Then we went to this massive bar that was clearly meant for the frat boy set.  At that point, I had found Carrie, and we walked in together with the larger group.
I guess like everyone was on a bar crawl, because pretty much everyone had on some shirt or another that indicated they were.  Even though it was only six in the evening, the inside was about seventy percent full, everyone crowded around the bar.  I decided not to get a drink because I hate pushing through crowds and waiting.
Instead, I went outside, and I was almost immediately greeted by someone really drunk.  He wasn't mean or anything, he just got right up into my face and then when he spoke to me, he smelled of alcohol.  He was very friendly. 
His friend, who appeared to be babysitting, put in a preliminary apology.  I told him it wasn't a big deal. 
Drunk boy, on the other hand, was sort of lazily dancing (there wasn't any music.)  He handed me a flask, and just seeing it made me smile.  I know people carry flasks, but there's something so old school, so cowboy, so bad boy in a film noir about it that I just always want to ask people "Seriously?  You have one of these?  Do you enjoy being a cliche?" 
He wanted me to take a drink.  I'm almost always up for a free drink, so I took a sip.  Drunk boy clapped.  I have no idea what it was, but how strong could it be, as it didn't burn.  Maybe really watered down vodka, because I couldn't taste much either. 
I talked to Carrie, and later Jonathan and Zack, who had come in after her.  There was talk of eventually finding Erin, who was her usual MIA.  (When are people going to show up on time for things?)  I asked Jonathan if he was going back to France, because he loves the French language and because one of my old classmates had gone there to teach for a year.
"Where's Erin?" I asked.
"Who knows," said Carrie.  She got out her phone and started texting.  "She said she was going to come."
That's what Erin had told me.  I had specifically asked her if she was going because things were always more entertaining when she was involved. 
After hanging out for a half an hour, we decided to move on to the next place, an Irish pub, one I had passed by but had never gone into before.  As we walked over there, I happened to turn around to look back.  Up against the wall of the bar we had just been in stood drunk Guy, his back to the wall, his babysitter, and another young man.  It looked like the babysitter and the other one were attempting to put drunk Guy's teeth back into his mouth.  I had just enough time to wonder what was going on. 
At the pub, they took us in a large side room which was obviously meant to hold the college crowd.  It was relatively quiet when we walked in, but it seemed to get steadily more crowded and louder.  Here, I walked up to the bar and bought myself an amaretto sour.  I only had twenties, and I had been in bars where paying for twenties and gotten me glares, so I apologized right off the bat. 
"No worries," the bartender said as he got me change.  As I waited, I noticed how wet the actual bar was.  It was basically soaked. 
Drink in hand, I headed over to a group of friends, Carrie and Jonathan, plus a couple of other people I recognized but couldn't remember the names of.
Eventually, a redhead wandered over to us.  Again, I remembered her because we had a conversation about virginity at one point last year, but I just could not remember her name.  She was younger than everyone else, so she couldn't drink, but had come along.  Possibly because she had designed the t-shirt. 
"Can I stick around with you?" she said.
"Sure."  I got the feeling that maybe she was like me, a little out of her depth. 
I ran into Maddie, and it was good to see her.  She had changed her hair cut but it was still its normal black and she looked really good.  We had a class together once.  I asked her what she was up to and she said she was working at a community center, and I marveled at how much the people in this group were doing things to really help the world, and I mean that genuinely.  Pretty much everyone was working for organizations like the Red Cross, or a food bank, or with immigrants, or raising money for public television or at halfway homes.  I have a lot of friends whose work centers around them saving money for massive corporations and making lots of money for themselves, but these friends and old colleagues were actually helping people.  
"How goes the poetry writing?" I asked. 
"Oh, I don't have any time for poetry or art these days because I'm so busy!" she said, half yelling because the room was pretty loud. 
That's actual too bad, because she was a decent poet, and I remember thinking she had interesting life experiences to draw from.  And now, given her work, she'll probably have even more interesting things to say.