As I am now a senior, I have been attempting to get the most out of my last year of school. So far, the best idea I have come up with is to go to bars in the middle of the week.Last Tuesday, I visited the ever popular Barfly, and had a rather unique experience. I seriously think that I’m going to have to carry around a signed note from my mother testifying to the validly of my ID. I swear, Washington, D.C. licenses are so ghetto-looking that a babyface like myself is never going to be believed. For instance, I recently got carded at the movies! I will have you know that I recently turned 22 and if I want to see “A Shark’s Tale,” I don’t need my parents’ permission! Well, as you may have guessed, I lost sense of how much I had had to drink and soon found myself quite intoxicated. I do not know how to do anything in moderation. I quickly found the attractive bartender, or beer wench, if you prefer the politically correct term, and I refused to order drinks from anybody but her. Honestly, I do not know why people bother to flirt with bartenders. You are not the first drunken slob to walk into the bar and impress her with some sort of witty repartee, and as for overtipping the girl, last time I checked she wasn’t a prostitute so I don’t think that is really a viable option. Having said that, I proceeded to attempt to flirt with her and tip her not only with my money but also with other guys’ money. If you put money on that bar, you can bet I will promptly scoop it up and deposited it right into her little hands. I don’t know how well this all went over with the rest of the gentlemen. Not wanting to find out, I made an exit to the bathroom only to discover a truly odd site. Now, as I said, the whole bar scene is relatively new to me, but I don’t think this was your normal bathroom. Nastiness, well, that is expected. A toilet stall with no hinge on the door is a little ghetto, but still not out of the question. A urinal trough, now that one threw me. It was like peeing in a giant sink-like basin. Your penis is just out there for everyone to see. Not that I have a problem with size, but normally guys follow the unspoken rule of no talking and staring straight at the wall bathroom etiquette. Although, when alcohol is involved, all bets are off. Random strangers have lengthy in-depth conversations in the bathroom. The man next to me spoke eloquently about how he felt there were not enough urinal cakes as he was eroding them all. As my mental state worsened, I sought a more effective means to be social. Someone offered me a cigarette and about half a pack later, we were having a very frank discussion. No, I do not smoke, but I find that, like holding a cup at a party, it is just a social thing to do. Plus, everyone knows it makes you look cool. Well, the fact that I do not usually smoke came back to haunt me. If you are wondering how this magical night came to an end, two lengthy hours over the toilet bowl pretty much sums it up.Kutcher can be reached at

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