The (Deep) South Carolina

James and Melissa got all dressed up to head over to Schooner's. I don't know why you would do that to go to the local watering hole, but maybe I just don't understand what it's like to be an adult. After all with my track pants and baseball jerseys I still dress like I did back in college. I'm almost 5 years removed from college so you think that I would learn how to dress like an adult by now. Nope. Maybe I should take lessons.

It turns out that I have a lot to learn. I don't wear Abercrombie or Aeropostale shirts and I don't drink Bloody Mary's at night. Things must be a little different down here in the South. But one thing that I was familiar with is some kind of bomb shots. Those are universal. And I certainly don't ask about local traditions or customs when a free drink is placed in front of me. I may be a confused Northerner, but I'm not an idiot.

Melissa stole my camera and wanted to take a picture of herself, but she didn't plan on me being ghost in the background. Seriously I don't know how I managed to do that. I've never been known for being swift on my feet, and I've never moved that fast without food as a reward.

Melissa "iced" me and I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life. It's this game that I've never heard about until tonight at the bar. Basically you have to give someone a Smirnoff Ice without them knowing, and once they find it they have to drop to one knee and slam the entire bottle. You have to be creative in placing the bottle because they can't know about it. Melissa got me by dropping it down the neck of my shirt while I was drinking at the bar. Then she got her friend by setting one inside her purse while she went to the bathroom. I'm all for fun and games, but how on Earth does the Iceman get iced? Ain't that some bullshit. But I played by the rules and drank my Smirnoff and swallowed sadness.

James had a bloody mary and I was sipping on a rum and sprite with a splash of grenadine. Say what you will about these not so manly drinks, but in the end they all get you drunk, right? We had to watch ourselves anyway, because Debbie Zabinski was watching over us.