Walking into The West End this past Thursday, my floor mates and I had no idea that we would be the entertainment for the night. We walked in confidently and made our way to the open booth. The scent of our perfume was quickly sacrificed to the aroma of cigarette smoke. We squeezed into the booth and rested our newly-lotioned elbows on the table which, unfortunately, was still saturated with the remnants of warm beer from the people who used the table before us. Just as the pitcher arrived at our table, we were silenced by the sound of a familiar song playing from the speakers above the customary sounds of The West End. Specifically, above the "So, what are you doing later?"s, and the reverberations of drunken toasts, we heard the 1996 hit single, "Shoop". Our faces lit up and we began to sing along. Two of my friends stood up on their seats to perform an interesting interpretation of Salt-n-Peppa's song. They grabbed their glasses and sang into them making sure all eyes in the bar were on them. Tara's bracelet danced wildly up and d
Although I was singing along to every word, I also took notice of the attention our booth had unknowingly attracted. I could categorize the audience into 2 groups: Columbians, and 30 year old men. I couldn't decide which group enjoyed the performance more. Happy hour was over, but ironically bar-goers always seem happier afterwards. The Columbians were at first unimpressed the girls' outburst. The typical Columbia cynic happened to be at the table across from us, and smirked condescendingly as he flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. By the second verse, his restrictive black leather shoes were pulsing along with the song that had taken over The West End, but by the end of the song even he was singing his heart out. There were no doubts that the older male crowd enjoyed the entire performance. Their infatuated stares of approval were somewhat creepy, yet tolerable. I noticed a group of them raise their glasses which I assumed was a non-spoken toast of gratitude for young college girls. I imagined their knowledge of the lyrics escaped along with their sobriety long
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