DFMO 101: Lessons Learned at The Third Edition

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Now that the Third Edition, our friendly neighborhood bar (and this blog’s namesake … kinda), has closed its doors for the final time, it’s as good a time as ever to reflect on some of the things that we learned in its hallowed halls. Over the years, we’ve seen Thirds as a haven for freshmen frantically trying to memorize the zip code on their fake IDs and as the spot where you’re most likely to make out with that cutie who sat behind you in micro. But it just wouldn’t be Georgetown without one final look back on it’s impact on our collective college experience. So here it is, the top four things that Thirds taught us all:

Jackets are overrated Nearly everyone who’s been to Thirds has either lost a jacket, unintentionally traded one with a stranger, been way too hot with their jacket still on or felt awkward carrying their jacket while dancing. For the sake of holding onto your own belongings, it’s better to go with a beer jacket (or, more realistically, a Burnett’s jacket) before heading out for the night.

The Buddy System is real — and important Loneliness is pushing your way through a sticky, sweaty crowd alone, not knowing where your bestie has gone. Thirds taught me that a buddy makes everything better — waiting in an infinite bathroom line, fending off creeps or locating that aforementioned cutie from class in the crowd. Plus, keeping a buddy close means you’ll never have to eat pizza alone!

Speak up  Thirds was always known for their theme nights — $2 Kamikaze Night, Ladies’ Night, etc. But my freshman self was most excited about Champagne Night, for a chance to try something slightly better than warm Andre. Unfortunately, when I excitedly asked the bartender for “One champagne, please,” I should have known by the puzzled look on his face that I wasn’t about to enjoy a glass of bubbly. Instead, I got handed a full cup of Jim Beam on ice and paid a steep price for it — in both dollars and bad nights.

Don’t trust any strangers ever But seriously, if someone offers you a beer and says, “It’s not roofied, I promise,” it’s probably roofied. Just don’t do it.

Photo: TheGeorgetownDish.com

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