Small-Town Saturday Nights

I'm sure a lot of people blog about their fabulous Saturday nights. They probably discuss the wonderful clubs, parties, or restaurants they went to. Well, in rural areas, such as where I'm from, the options are a little bit more limited. In places like this, there are bars and parties.

In my ideal world, bars are where people go to socialize in a relaxed setting while having a few drinks. In the rural midwest, bars are where legal adults go to get drunk. You don't even have to be of age if you know the bartender and you've memorized the police schedules or are friends with the policemen.

Parties are more accessible to everyone in my age range, but available less often. One has to have some kind of excuse to throw a party. If not, it's just a bunch of drunkards hanging out to music. However, this doesn't seem to bother very many people, and they still try to pass off events like that as the event of the year. Where I come from, there are only three kinds of parties. They are house parties, frat parties, and field parties.

If you still live with your parents, house parties only happen when they are foolish enough to leave town. If you have your own house, you avoid throwing house parties at all costs because you will then be expected to host them all the time. As hosting a house party usually ends with the host scrubbing dried vomit off the toilet seat the next morning, it is not a desirable position. Those who make that mistake once seldom make it again.

If you live in a rural college town, like me, there are frat parties. It's an opportunity for the fraternity to get all the girls in the town together. They know girls will come because there's nothing else for people to do on a Saturday night. Lucky them, not-so-lucky us. We can stay at home, or deal with drunken men trying to cop a feel on the dance floor (and by dance floor I mean over-crowded basement with borrowed speakers set up).

If one is not so fortunate as to live in a town with fraternities, one attends parties in cow fields.
I'm not joking. Police- and weather-permitting, everybody circles up their cars in a remote field, sets up lawn chairs, and drinks beer. The person with the best car stereo gets to be the dj.

Unfortunately, my tastes are a little bit classier than any of the above-mentioned options. Which is why I'm at home, alone, blogging on a Saturday night.

What would you do?