We sat in Reckers from 2-4 AM, and here’s what happened

Observing the latest of nights with Notre Dame’s best and brightest

It’s 2 a.m. You stumble out of the cab, sweat and beer-soaked with just a tinge of remorse. For a fleeting moment visions of warm bed sheets and fluffy pillows enter your mind’s eye, but then suddenly… a rumbling.

You realize it’s been three whole hours since you last ate that pre-party Quesalupa. You begin to feel faint. Your knees buckle and the ground starts to swim before you. This is definitely from your malnourishment, not the seven beers you chugged in the last hour. You know what you need to do. In your dazed stated you hear your friend call to you.

“Are you coming back to my room?”

“No,” you say with sober resolve. “I’m going to Reckers.”

I think we’re all familiar with this scenario. You go out, get drunk, come back, and the pesto pizza starts calling your name. That’s why Reckers is your number one destination for observing the effects of alcohol on Notre Dame’s best and brightest.

Having nothing else to do from 2-4 a.m. on a Saturday night (we didn’t want to offend God by hanging out in a men’s residence hall after 2 a.m.), we spent that time taking notes on the colorful clientele at ND’s favorite 24 hour restaurant.  Much of our experience was unsurprising, but there were a few incidents that we could not have predicted.

If we tuned out the noise of the Backstreet Boys blaring over the speakers, a few familiar phrases kept popping up.

“Oh my God I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Yeah we totally hooked up! We made out for like ten minutes.”

“That’s the second guy this weekend! You’re so bad.”

“Due I’m not even tha drunk rah naw. Lesss go to Tac-Bell affer this.”

“Were you at lax house again?”

“Yeah, I practically live there.”

*unintelligible, high-pitched shrieking*

“That guy keeps looking over here. Let’s get him to buy us a pizza.”

But among the drunken cliches were some more abnormal occurrences. At one point we witnessed two girls lurking by the counter with a lustful look in their eyes. When the worker announced a fresh Mango Me Crazy smoothie, one girl lunged forward, snatched it up, and the two fled the scene suspiciously quickly. A few minutes later, a guy walked up to the cashier with drunken indignance.

“It’s been ten minutes and I still haven’t gotten my smoothie.”

We were also treated to the sight of a girl dancing (drunkenly thrashing) to Fall Out Boy while waiting in line, an NDSP officer trying to wake a guy peacefully passed out on a couch in the corner, a pizza with a tumor, and a naive young man trying single-handedly to bring back Abercrombie and Fitch hoodies.

Our night at Reckers taught us that alcohol is a sure-fire way to make even the coolest among us incredibly obnoxious, but not altogether unentertaining. So if you ever find yourself with nothing to do on a Saturday night, Reckers will be there with all the drunk people and pesto pizza you could ever want.

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