It must be aliens

If you are one of the few fortunate souls who are able to get into Mel’s on a Friday or Saturday night, then you definitely would have suffered through this travesty.

It’s past midnight, the line outside of Mel’s is out of control. The apartment party ran out of booze and tequila shots are just what you need. You use your Mel’s hookup to cut the line and before you know it, you are thrust into the sticky, claustrophobic, and  off-kilter throng. But hold on, something’s off. Is the floor stickier than usual? Is the lighting especially bad? Did someone just yack? No! You were dead wrong. It’s the music!

Green Day! Then another Green Day song. You brace yourself for Bowling for Soup’s “1985.” A few lackluster Nelly songs from the early 2000’s blares as you choke down another tequila shot. Then the unexplainable occurs. Blink 82’s “All The Small Things” plays. You pinch yourself, look around, and make sure of your surroundings. The lacrosse team and FIJI brothers reassure you that you are in fact at Mel’s, but something is definitely off.

At around 2AM, you are sufficiently angry. Not one jam from this year or this decade have played yet. You want to let loose but you can’t exactly groove with your friends to “Welcome to the Black Parade.” After losing patience, you manage to bust a move to Avril Lavigne. As the sweat drips down your back and a smile breaks out on your face, the music choice no longer matter. As the Mel’s crowd disperses and makes its way to 1020, so do you.

Running almost, you arrive at 1020. There is no line. For a second, it seems that the stars have aligned. The bouncer greets you with a smile as he stamps “Approved” on your hand. At this point, you casually stroll in looking for an empty booth. But then you clutch the closest wall and mouth agape, slide to the ground dumbstruck. Your friends lift you up, waving hands in front of you, trying to wipe the look of shock off your face.

Taylor Swift’s “Look What You Made Me Do” reverberates throughout the tight space. You look around at the theatre majors, creative writing majors, and architecture students for any signs of confusion. Everyone is content. Then, you turn towards the big screen in the back. This time, unable to contain your shock, you pass out. Above your head, the music video is playing in sync with the song. The theatre students and RATROCK club members sing along un-ironically as you are wheeled into a CAVA ambulance.

Image via Rama