Now that we are getting back in the swing of things it is only right that Columbia nightlife returns to its humble normitude. There was trouble in wonderland this past weekend, as freshman realized the awkwardness of Columbia sponsored events, and older students tried to relive them. If you stayed in this weekend to watch Netflix, Bwog applauds you. Here are our Field Notes of what you missed (or didn’t really miss).
“At 1020 with some friends… A lone man walked briskly past the long line outside the bar, barely pausing as he gingerly placed a fully intact sandwich on the bare sidewalk. Upon closer investigation the sandwich was uneaten and still piping hot. Weird…”
“The scene at 1020 is so much pleasanter now that it’s all grad students. I love scanning.”
“One friend’s underage friend got scanned at 1020; his fake read on the scanner as “Paris Hilton.” The bouncer asked if he knew he was a famous heiress.”
“I went to 1020 with some of my friends, then it was decided that the line wasn’t moving quickly enough and some of us had to pee. While I was trying to get over the fence into St. John the Divine, I glance over and see one of my friends squatting on the sidewalk side of a car, apologizing to a passerby.”
“ALSO went to 1020 and almost fought a rando because he claimed I was sitting on his coat (WHICH I CLEARLY WAS NOT) and he started calling me some nasty names. Another rando had to step in and tell us both to “simmer down.” After pushing said asshole away, he then bought me a drink and quietly listened to me bitch about how I “totally could have taken that guy.” It was super bizarre.
I get super pugnacious when I drink and it occurs to me that one day I’m going to challenge someone to a fight and they’re actually going to take me up on it, which would be bad because I’m like 5 feet tall and would obviously lose. I need to stop challenging people to fights.” #real
New York’s Hottest Club Is:
“ADP’s back after a year on the DL. (Though you had to “know someone” and show CUID to get in). My friend and I lasted 8 minutes. There was also no alc left by the time we got there.”
“Potluck had balsa/salsa party. Got there way late after everything calmed but it was still so nice in that potluck way.”
“Drunk white boy demonstrating hilarious lack of understanding of any dance styles beyond “jumping like a baller” in a Wendy’s on Broadway near Houston.”
“Also, NYU Public Safety is staffed by assholes who won’t let you into their library even though your guest pass expired only yesterday and their security office (where one gets the guest passes) inexplicably closed three hours ahead of the posted time on their website and door. #bitter”
“Some idiot in Beta (fourth floor window on the left) threw a lit cigarette out the window and almost hit me in the eye. #bwogisagrumpyoldman”
Freshman, take it all in
“I had the unfortunate opportunity of being among the first-years of Columbia’s four undergraduate schools to attend the so-called Winter Wonderland dance under the impression it was actually a thing. No, it was not a thing but a cosmic smudge that happened to fall into Low Library – the location venue was its sole redeeming feature. I ate a little light that night. hoping their would be food worth eating. Alas, the food is equivalent to what you’d find in John Jay. Certainly edible, but nothing tasting as rich as it should, all with just a tinge of plasticity, or, in the case of the mozzarella sticks, a tinge of tar. But the music is what really turned the would-be bacchanal into Tartarus. There may well have been one song, for speakers acted as musical sewer pipes, spewing forth discordant tones that sounded like what a frustrated 80 year-old professor of classical music would write as a shallow satire of the music popular among today’s youth. One “piece” involved dubstep, techno, and lyrics from Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop” but was none of these things; it was its own flavor, its awfulness only tempered by its forgetableness. I stayed until all youthful energy that had compelled me to enter the den had drained into the night. I assumed the lack of people in the room meant the night was winding down, that it was 2 am and I had lost all perception of time in that universe, that the sameness of the torture had collapsed eternity into minutes, and I needed to collapse into my bed if I was to retain a normal sleep schedule. I came back to my dorm and discovered I had lost perception of time – it was only 10:30, and I felt like I had spent half a day in the place since I arrived at 8:45. I guess it’s time to read more Ovid.”
Sorority Rush Walking Slowly in Heels
“Outside the John Jay lounge there is basically just a pile of Longchamp bags and a strong smell of perfume.”
“Just saw a girl walking towards Barnard with a severe bloody nose. I’m talking blood everywhere.”
“Girls clearly coming from sorority parties in mini dresses and heels eating in john jay. one takes off her heels and walking around barefoot.” See below.
No shame no gain.
1020 is such a love/hate/love place
ADP stands for All Drunk People or Assholes Dont (let you in 3) Preach
i cant right now. I cant even.
too much text not enough pics
Have Your Say
Hi there! I am one of the co-chairs for this year's Glass House Rocks event. I'm so sorry to hear