Your Worst Nightmare: The Drunk Girl

Your Worst Nightmare: The Drunk Girl

Your Worst Nightmare: The Drunk Girl

The equivalent of smallpox, bubonic plague, and scarlet fever all wrapped into one giant hysterical mess, the drunk girl is every club goers worst nightmare behind picky doormen and rampantly aggressive bottle chasers. If you’ve ever attended a nightclub in any major metropolitan city (or just looked out your window if you live on South Beach), you’ve most likely witnessed dozens of these train wrecks either a) crawling on all fours in an ill-fated attempt to find their way home or b) passed out face down in one of many socially unacceptable locations including random booths, other people’s laps, and/or the street.

Easily identified by their incoherent babbling, tendency to begin crying for absolutely no reason, and inability to walk more than five successive steps without totally eating it, the drunk girl is an unfortunate staple of nightclubs around the world. Rarely traveling in packs, your average drunk girl is typically a solitary individual that has been mysteriously abandoned by her entire friend group out of what is most likely sheer embarrassment (“Seriously Rebecca, please stop falling asleep on the bar. People are starting to stare.”), although said friends will probably claim that they lost her during an extended “bathroom” run. If you start to see this scenario unraveling anywhere near/around/on you, immediately run towards the nearest exit as without her friends keeping her at bay, the drunk girl will automatically begin terrorizing those in her general vicinity by repeatedly asking where she is and attempting to consume other people’s alcohol before throwing up on their pants just for good measure.

You may think this is a joke, but make sure to heed our warning, folks: no matter how pathetically in need she may seem at first glance, the drunk girl is not to be trusted under any circumstances unless you are properly equipped with a gallon of water and EMS on speed dial. Turn your back on her for one second and you may find your brand new LVs covered in God only knows what. Your call.

Written by Erica Washington