Syllabus week. The week that every student knows there isn’t going to be any tests, quizzes, homework, or any learning for that matter. You show up, raise your hand for attendance and think about your plans for later that night. This past syllabus week, I acted as any junior in college would, and decided to go while I had zero responsibilities. My parents are probably reading this with huge disappointment, but the world needs to know.

While I was out I wrote some notes in my phone about the different experiences, feelings, and thoughts I had. I figured I would share these experiences with you all seeing how these are all probably feelings we have had while out. These are my stories. (Insert "Law and Order" music.)

Monday:

Welcome to the fall semester. My Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule is prime. Come 1 p.m. I’m done with class for the day and it’s time to think about my plans for tonight. We all know the spot to be on Monday is Clyde’s and Costello’s. Even as a tour guide, I’ve had multiple alumnus ask me “Does everyone still go to Clyde’s?” My response, “Oh, yeah.”

It’s now 7 p.m. and my Facebook timeline floods with pictures of the pre-banding line. Imagine the line for Suwannee at lunchtime, now triple that. The early birds are definitely getting the worm, or, in this case, a fast pass to drunkenness and debauchery. Fast forward four hours and I’ve made it through the Clyde’s doors. Isn’t it a great feeling walking by the procrastinators hitting the ATM by the door? I’m so glad I went and got 20 bucks cash back from Publix earlier today.

So, once my squad and I roll through the door we storm our way to the bar. After a few spilled drinks and some accidental elbows, we get our Tailor-mades (a Clyde’s classic) and decide to make our next move. “Yo, let’s go upstairs,” one of my friends yells over the music. We made our way up the stairs only to realize “this is crowded as hell let’s go back down”. As we are walking down the stairs you know I have to throw a point to the friends I see scattered around on the main floor. Eventually, my twenty dollars becomes two and my memory becomes hazy. It’s time to go home. Goodnight Clyde’s.

Tuesday:

This is a night that offers many options, but after a few debates I’m convinced by my brothers to go to Recess. The place is luxury partying on a Tallahassee budget. Once you climb up the 1,700 flights of stairs and see the rooftop vibe, shiny pool, and packed bars it feels like you're in a cheap Tally version of "Entourage." Whenever I walk in I feel like Vinny Chase, but I look like Louis C.K. I don’t think I’ve ever gone a night out without losing my friends for at least a few minutes so of course the dim lit Recess causes me to suffer the same fate that night. After a somewhat gibberish conversation with the guy selling cologne and cigarettes in the bathroom, I eventually reunited with my bros and called us an Uber home. Tuesday was fun but it was child’s play compared to what the Strip had planned for Wednesday.

Wednesday:

Remember the time when Wednesday was our favorite day because we were let out of school early? Well times have changed and we love it for a very different reason. Sorry, Mom, but Wednesdays are meant for White Trash. Any other given day jorts are seen as a Gainesville trend, but today they are out in full force on the Tallahassee streets.

The strip is packed with students, homeless people asking buzzed college kids for money, and a squad of police officers. Walking bar too bar at the strip is like cattle in a herd, a beer drinking and country music singing herd. Despite the amount of sweat, spilled drinks, and perhaps vomit odor in the air I can’t help but think about how awesome this is. I’m sure we’ve all gone and watched a few pool games at pub house, seen someone dancing on a pole in Yiannis, or maybe even a klutz falling down the backside stairs (perhaps it was me).

As if White Trash isn’t packed enough imagine it with a mechanical bull. Gorgeous girls and freshman guys with no shame (or memory) love to hop on the bull and share their god given talents with the crowd. After a long night of recklessness the next spot to go is even more lit than the strip. I honestly believe going to McDonald’s on Tennessee St. is considered as “going out”. You’ll see anyone there from your Summer C suitemates, to the girl in your financial accounting class you’re wanting to to Netflix and chill with. Perhaps I’ll wait in the chaotic long line to order 20 McNuggets, or maybe I’ll just get a cab home because this line is ridiculous and a homeless person is yelling about Vietnam.

Thursday:

I need a rest day. Or be convinced to go to The Strip in a T-shirt and shorts because what else am I going to do?

Friday:

The Holy Grail of weekdays. It’s been a tradition, for I don’t even know how long, that Happy Hour at Potbelly’s is the spot to be. It’s about 95 degrees, humid, and it’s going to be packed, but that won’t stop us. The time is now to start getting ready. Gym bros grab their tanks, funny guys grab their Hawaiian shirts, and girls put on their sweat proof make-up to prepare for the intense Pot’s heat.

Once you're in Pot’s, your senses are stimulated by many factors. You see the beer filled pitchers, hear the performer (perhaps my friends Donny or Steve) shredding the strings, or maybe your nose is pierced with the smell of fantastic tacos that after a few drinks are too impossible to resist. Happy hour is nothing but sunshine and fun times (unless it pours, which happens all too often). Some folks will make the trek from Pot’s to Clyde’s. Refer to Monday for a recap of Clydes. The bravest of Noles (and their visiting friends) will make their way to Standard. Many call it “The Derd” I call it “too crowded” so I don’t even bother but I know I’m missing out on some fun.

Friday, Part Two:

Ah, so you’ve arisen from your post happy hour nap and it is time to rally for the finale of the week. But where? Where could you go that could possibly top this insane week of being the college kid you’ve always wanted to be? I know just the place. Get ready Tally, because we are going to Tabu.

The second you walk up to the entrance the windows are blacked out. I can’t tell if this is to not let people see in, or to not let whatever is inside there see out. The bouncers give you the neon band that you know you’re going to wake up with tomorrow. So now you’ve walked into Tabu. Immediately I wonder “Do any of these people actually go to my school?” Tabu, Bajas, Coliseum, they are the same in my eyes. It’s fun but a different kind of fun. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in some countries for a goofy red head wearing a Hawaiian shirt to try dancing at Tabu. And yes, it’s the same shirt from happy hour.

Multiple times throughout the night, a guy I’m guessing is the DJ, screams into the microphone “TALLAHASSEE, ARE YOU READY?!” I don’t know what I’m ready for, but yes, I am ready. The night goes on and I burn all the calories from drinking by my attempt at dancing. Leaving Tabu, I walk with a few brothers back to Heritage Grove. Of course we stop to get food and devour whatever pizza we can get our hands on ASAP. The night is over, but the weekend has just gotten started.

I hope you all could relate to my week of chaos. Perhaps you shared the same experiences as me or maybe yours were entirely different. Either way, it’s time to buckle down and ride this semester out. I’ll be going out once in a while, but at least now I know what to expect.

Stay classy, Tallahassee.