But in Missoula, a thing called Jazz Martini Night* happens every Sunday evening and it's about as classy of an opportunity for college students to add some sophistication to their weekend without dropping $30 on two drinks at John Mayer's favorite bar in Montana. And there's nothing better, if you ask me, than an adult chocolate shake after completing an entire ecology "semester long" project in just an afternoon. Some things just have to happen and showering for the first time all weekend, putting on a dress, and listening to jazz is sort of the best way to let the weekend simmer down a little more slowly than breezing through three episodes of Pretty Little Liars.
Walk into the bar. Get ten feet before I spot the Bouncer who is nodding off on a stool and he leaps out of his chair to chase me down.
"ID, gimme your ID," he says, grunting. It's already in my hands. I've just learned by now that my chances of not looking like a sixteen year old with a fake are nonexistent. I hand it to him. He looks at me, wondering I'm sure what sixteen year old is allowed out on a Sunday night and who my parents are, but lets me pass with an eyebrow raise. Nothing unusual.**
Find our friend who is waiting for us. Be introduced to a gal I sort of think I know because I'm pretty sure someone told me my ex hooked up with her and stuff. She's really awesome and watches Supernatural and seems to genuinely enjoy my excitement over the One Direction album leaking on Tumblr. Bond over other girl things and I remember that her article in the school newspaper this week was about wanting to have more friends that are girls and how hard it is to impress other girls when you want to be friends with them. Think to myself, I'm down with being this girl's friend and maybe we can talk about how uncomfortable my ex's stubble was. Maybe. I'm now not on a double date with my boyfriend, she is my date and how on Earth do I impress this girl enough to be friends by the end of the night?
Slurp on chocolate shake. It's so good I want to stop at the Liquor store on the way home to buy a bottle of this Godiva chocolate stuff, just to top off my Sunday night right. Girl gets up and also orders a chocolate thing. When she comes back, she mentions Seattle and how she's from there and I die inside and she becomes not just girl, but Girl Crush.
Boyfriend ordered some sort of concoction that has garlic flavored vodka in it. Reaffirms that I am no longer on a date with him but with Girl Crush.
Suddenly, turn around at the sound of... a child crying? Sure enough, it's like Baby's Day Out if they included a bar scene. A baby in a fluffy Patagonia onsie snow suit is sauntering around the bar. Two seconds later and a lady at the bar looks under the counter to see him missing and springs after him. Baby. At. A. Bar. Is this an "only in Montana" thing?
Be introduced to boyfriend's jazz playing friend. "Oh, you're THE Maggie. You're famous in the music building."
After a half hour, Girl Crush says she has to leave. She gets up to shake the hands of the dudes and when she gets to me, she hugs me. Facebook Friend request sent the next day. Success.
*dating someone who is a music major is awesome because you discover things like Jazz Martini Night because he knows the people in it and sometimes performs in similar things that happen around Missoula.
**I really did get ID'ed to go to an R-rated movie last week, so I seriously do look 16 to people.