1020 patrons flock to our booth

On Friday night, First-Years S$, L$, and Y$, chaperoned by a Senior Staffer (henceforth referred to as Editor), headed to 1020 for an open-to-close adventure: 4:00 pm to 4:00 am. In their bags were half-done homework assignments, the Iliad, Sappho’s “If Not, Winter”, a condom, and a single iPhone charger. The events that ensued are compiled below. In the style of biblical analysis, we invite you to try to discern which Bwoggers were responsible for which log entries.

The Log
4:14 pm: “Is it too early to open a tab?” “Nah.” “A glass of house red, please.” “Make that three.”
4:20 pm: Double fisting wine and bubble tea.
5:05 pm: Editor leaves for an hour and a half.
5:42 pm: S$ kicks Y$’s ass in pool.
5:50 pm: We introduce ourselves to Ray, one of the early shift bartenders. Ray and One Of The Two Tims (Australian) work the bar until 9:00 p.m., when two undergrad girls arrive to take over.
6:30 pm: Horde of architecture students arrive for a pre-arranged soirée. We mingle.
6:35 pm: Editor comes back with Digg Inn leftovers and Barnard friend.
6:45 pm: Man in tie reading New York Times next to pool table. White boy in Sperry’s and khakis alone on back couch.
6:57 pm: L$: “Is it too early for this?” *orders vodka cranberry*
7:01 pm: Were a bartender to look more closely at our booth, he would see half the book list for Lit Hum.
7:07 pm: L$, S$, and Y$ start interviewing random architecture students.
7:14 pm: Two Guinesses down. The milkshake of beer.
7:25 pm: Amazing idea: weed chapstick.
7:35 pm: Man with goatee walks by sporting a mouth like a hairy asshole. If assholes could smile and frown, they would be more expressive than this man.
7:55 pm: Editor leaves [this time for four hours], purportedly to buy pizza but actually to attend a birthday party.
8:03 pm: “If Not, Winter” fragment 107. We decide to ask people, “Do you still yearn for your virginity?” Someone from St. Louis, MO wants it back just to lose it again.
8:18 pm: L$ wishes more Tinder matches would message her back.
8:25 pm: Between shots of Jack in Barnard dorm, Editor receives text requesting Koronet’s.
8:41 pm: Alejandro, a handsome man from Peru, gives his number to Y$ via a ridiculous math trick. Claims it’s “how [he] got into Columbia.”
Y$ BOY CELL PHONE # COUNT: 1.
8:55 pm: “American Ninja Warrior” on TV. We’re hungry as shit. Please, for the love of God, someone bring us Koronet’s.
9:17 pm: Guy with backwards Yankees cap has been at the bar since 6, sans friends. He insists said friends are still on their way.
9:30 pm: WE GOT OUR KORONETS!!! People offer to buy slices from us. Everyone is jealous.
9:43 pm: “Happy Birthday” serenade to the girl in the next booth. We do not know her. It is not her birthday.
9:53 pm: We have reached a plateau. Nearing halfway mark. Going strong. Must pace selves.
10:02 pm: A Colombian (with an O) named Gustavo wants to see us back at the bar next Friday. Gives Y$ his number.
Y$ BOY CELL PHONE # COUNT: 2.
10:04 pm: A rowdy slew of our friends show up.
10:50 pm: Backwards Yankee cap leaves, alone.
11:09 pm: Y$ takes picture with Ron, Ron gives his number to Y$.
Y$ BOY CELL PHONE # COUNT: 3.
11:22 pm: Girl walks up with friend; yells, “Who here thinks this guy is cute?!” None of us raise hands. Guy sits down with us.
11:33 pm: Y$ tells elaborate story about how she’s from North Korea and her grandmother is related to Kim Jong-un to get the guy to leave. Unfortunately, he seems more intrigued than scared shitless (LIKE THE REST OF US WERE? BECAUSE WTF?).
11:46 pm: Creepy guy finally leaves.
11:49 pm: L$’s first yawn of the night.
11:50 pm: L$’s second yawn.

12:23 am: Second plateau.
12:58 am: Kyle gives Y$ his number.
Y$ BOY CELL PHONE # COUNT: 4.
1:02 am: A ~friend~ from a previous night out arrives. He and L$ aggressively make out in the booth. He leaves 10 min later.
1:08 am: Our Editor finally returns to the bar, fellow (anonymous) Bwog members/randos in tow. Another round of happy birthday. It was actually one girl’s birthday.
2:00 am: Our British friend writes the entirety of “Jerusalem” by William Blake in our notebook. Proceeds to sing the poem and order lots of beer. Did we mention he’s British?
2:30 am: Editor plays Pokemon Go. Luckily, there are two pokestops close by.
2:38 am: Moment of silence for Harambe (because we never made it to Mel’s, where there was a Harambe-themed event).
2:51 am: Lost Y$. Moment of panic. Find her at the bar making out with a boy. Crisis averted.
3:04 am: Distribute condom to needy Carmanite.
3:15 am: Editor notes that handwriting has become increasingly sloppy, but it’s OK because “you can’t tell online.”
3:27 am: Random boy with a neck full of hickies: “Oh my God, I’m going to spank Omar!”
3:42 am: Last call! Tabs = closed. Employee starts mopping floor. Hope we can actually leave at 4 a.m.
3:50 am: Turkish man sits down, complains that “nice guys” like him are never given a chance because assholes and Barnard students ruin the white male reputation. He tells us he was dumped last week and asks if anyone wants to leave with him.
4:00 am: Y$: “That was a fucking blast. Let’s do it again.”

Final Drink Count
L$: 7
S$: 8
Y$: 9
Editor: Unknowable
Note: Y$ was the least drunk by the end of the night and would like this to be documented.

Moral Of The Story
Catch us there next Friday!