My boyfriend, a dashingly handsome member of the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity, recently had the honor of getting his chapter chartered on our campus. Apparently, according to him, this is all sorts of a big deal so there was a huge function on the Queen Mary. Such a big deal that I had to miss my own formal (on a smaller, more pathetic yacht #peasants) to attend it. As a bitter little brat of a girlfriend, I promised myself for months that I would not buy a new dress. But, as the spoiled princess I am, the day before formal I ran out to get a new dress. I found out (the day before because boys will be boys) that this was a black tie affair and, being a 21 year old who is not dating a rich, famous sugar daddy, I have really no idea what that entails. I was told, though, not to wear "a tight hoochie dress." Because I guess I own a lot of those because I'm a dirty harlot. K, ANYWAY. I thought maybe I needed to wear a black dress so I went to H&M to buy one. I didn't buy new shoes though! So I guess that's a positive!
Upon arriving at the Queen Mary, I decided that this function was definitely way too adult. I do not adult well. As my boyfriend and his fraternity brothers that I am friends with all abandoned me to do some weird ritual things that I'm not allowed to take part in, I had to mingle with some ladies. Want to know what I don't like? Mingling. Talking to strangers. Pretending to be social when I am the most starving, which I was. I was promised steak so I did not eat beforehand but LET ME TELL YOU, I should have eaten beforehand. But eventually we were allowed in to the ballroom where we were subjected to terribly boring speeches by old men about their beach house and parties back in the day. What a time to be alive.
Anyway, after the old people were good and done, they were kicked out so that the real party could start. As we all filed back into hotel rooms on the Queen Mary to get wasted, the old people made their way out so that the dancing could begin. However, it seems that everyone had the same idea as us because when we finally went back to the ballroom, there was a solid 4 people in there. Alas, drunk Cole decided to take it to the dance floor and bust a move. Classic. As he shook his booty to songs that I'm positive that he's never heard before, I stepped aside and took videos to later show to his roommates so that we could collectively make fun of him. Cole's dance moves are the equivalent to a dad at a barbecue. It is adorable.
It was a great night of lookin good and being with the best guy in the venue as always. I frickin love that little nerd. Congrats on being a dad - a founding father of my favorite fraternity.
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