You’re on the dance floor at Taylor’s powering down a fuck-it-bucket when all of the sudden your bladder comes to your attention. You try to hold it, but eventually, your bladder wins. So you look to your friends,make the signal and head to the ladies room.

Once you’ve broken the seal,  you will be visiting the bar bathroom at least seven more times that the night. And that’s just when you have to go to the bathroom, you still have to go when your friends make you.

Right when you go in, you notice a girl on the floor and her friend fanning her. You might be drunk, but you’re nowhere near drunk enough to sit on the sticky floor. The bathroom stalls have a phone number written across and in big letters, “ROBBIE IS A DICK.” You make a mental note not to makeout with any Robbies tonight.

Some girl compliments your skirt, another compliments your makeup. It turns into a crowd of random girls complimenting each other. One girl asks you to button her jeans for her. You’ve never seen her in your life, but she calls you her “best friend”  even though you will probably never see her again.

You have all your friends go in the stall together. You hand your drink off to someone and another friend takes a snapchat of you while you do your business. It’s funny now, but tomorrow morning you’ll be pissed when it’s still on her story. The girl in the stall next to you is puking and her friends are knocking on the door begging her to open it.

When your done, your drink is basically empty, and you ask a random girl to button your skirt up. You do a terrible job at washing your hands and wipe it on your shirt. The puking girl is done and ready to rally. You start to walk back to the dance floor, until your friend whispers in your ear that she has to go to the bathroom.