G-Vegas

Upon the eve of my twenty-first birthday,
I found myself feeling extra thirsty.
But despite being an ECU junior,
I’ve never been much of a heavy drinker.
The occasion called for a time to be memorable,
and the answer pointed to downtown Greenville.
I’ve heard many legends, but I’ve never been
to that worshiped place of college sin,
with dollar beer and penny liquor,
and contests to find the quickest chugger.
A place where the party age is eighteen,
where you can fall on your face, and dance, and scream
without breaking laws or having to listen
because the cops are beside you, double-fisting.
Bars and clubs dotting the 5th street strip,
with taxis and buses that require no tip,
Hotdog and pizza places open late night
to curb the drunk, pounding appetites,
signs and slogans shine bright, neon light
guaranteeing you the time of your life,
G-Vegas, it’s called—the strip of dreams
for underage, drunken party fiends.
So on the eve of my birthday bash,
I gathered my friends and lots of cash,
I swallowed my pride and put on my gown,
and I stepped on the bus to go downtown.
Now if you’re wondering what happened to me,
if G-Vegas was all it was cracked up to be,
if all of the legends and stories are real,
and the boozy haze empowers you to think and feel,
I will tell you a little tale of my own
of an ECU Pirate who was shown
the worshiped place of college sin
on the night of her twenty-first birthday binge.
She drank and danced and had so much fun,
that she came home in time to meet the sun.
She liked it so much, she returned again
and made some new friends at Pirate’s Den.
Soon one day a week turned into seven,
and four beers then turned into eleven.
G-Vegas was all she could think about,
and she now only cared about going out.
She said she was shown the time of her life
and was willing to have it at any price.
So if you’re asking me if the legends are true,
I’ll tell you, first, that I’m now thirty-two,
and, yes, I am the girl in the story,
and in a few years, I’ll be pushing forty,
and I’ll still be sitting at Pirate’s Den
on a stool, with the stiffest drink in my hand.
So, yes, G-Vegas is real and true,
and if this happened to me, it can happen to you.

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