Why Garage is overrated

I remember, back in September, initially hearing about this mysterious place called Garage. I Googled it first. It looked kind of sketchy, but gave me hope that I would find a night of success there when we have those days where we “just want to dance.”

I’ll set the scene for you: Thursday night, roughly 9:30 pm. Masses of students sprint out of their informal quad pregames into Ubers with far too many people crammed into the backseat. It remotely feels like a walk of shame as you teeter in wedges and an outfit your mom would be appalled at past kids diligently doing their chemistry homework in their dorm lounge. They look up at you and shake their heads, smirking.

Every single person on campus (including RAs…and the one who reported it, we see you) knows exactly what’s going on.

I used to get PUMPED about Garage ~Thursdaze~ each week, excitedly anticipating the Facebook event where the “promoters” announce the theme for the week. Jersey Thursday? Semi-Formal? The highly ambiguous “New York City” night? The possibilities are endless.

We lived for Garage. It was like a bar mitzvah! But no parents! And everyone is drunk! And dancing! What more could we ask for?

Then we hit our sixth time there. Then seventh. (Might I add in that this establishment shares a parking lot with what I have gathered to be a Jewish pre-school. How do we feel about that one?)

I admit, I appreciate the stability Garage has provided me. It’s an option for every Thursday night, without fail, and even though you may find yourself trampled by boys in button downs trying to get to the front of the line, it’s a comfort knowing it’s an option.

Alas, both my bank account and my dignity tell me the search must begin for a new go-to. The newness and excitement of Garage has faded, replaced by an utter lack of desire to ever go back (you know I do anyways) and spend $15 on a cranberry vodka while some horndog boy stands way too close to the group of girls at the bar, just waiting to pounce.

The bartenders are sometimes rude, we’re always there for about an hour too long, the cover fees are entirely unnecessary, the music usually sucks (except for 90’s night, God bless) and the too-aggressive drunken DFMs (dance floor makeouts) can sometimes be too much for me to handle.

I undoubtedly will always hold a special place in my heart for Garage Lounge and all its ratchet glory, but I think, honestly, the time has come for us to pack up and move on.