A Semester Without Coli Is Like A Year Without Rain

The Tallahassee Apocalypse has been in full swing this past semester, and I’m not too sure it is stopping anytime soon. Greek life is gone, Jimbo is gone, Room 215 is gone, even the hotdog stand outside of Standard is gone, but most importantly: Coli is gone.

In a community where college kids are constantly running around trying to keep themselves entertained, the absence of such a monumental place has definitely been felt and no one has felt it more than the residents of Tallahassee.

Coliseum Saturdays were the right of passage for every Florida State student. No matter how many times you said you weren’t going, you knew deep down that “all roads lead to Coli”, and there was nothing you could do about it. I’m not going to lie; a certain level of mental preparation was needed before entering through those columns.

Once you paid a ridiculous $15 cover to go through the express line because the length of the general admission line was never short of one you’d see at Disney, you were greeted by none other than that majestic lion (yeah, you know the one). The line for the girl’s bathroom was atrocious, there were three fights going on in the boy’s bathroom, questionable acts were occurring on the side couches, at least two people were being escorted out by security, and it wasn’t even 11:30 yet. At last: you had arrived inside of the magical Coli.

The night would continue to be a constant tornado of running around from bar to bar, table to table, Rokbar to main floor, all the while dancing like you’ve never danced before and holding a $20 champagne bottle that is actually $7 at CVS. You went from being calm cool and collected, to raging face, with absolutely no idea how it happened (yet you weren’t too upset about it).

You were making friends with the people dancing next to you, taking unnecessary amounts of Y-bombs, and Snapchatting every second of it because you knew you were having a better time than anyone else on their story. The music, atmosphere, and people inside of Coli were like none other, and it was near-impossible to not have a good time.

As we watched our beloved Coliseum be torn to the ground (literally) to make way for another Target, the entire Tallahassee community has since been suffering through countless uneventful Saturday nights, only meekly saved by the re-emergence of Baja's, which half of us refuse to even go to because we still call it Tabu. After a semester without it, it’s safe to say that no other club will ever truly capture the essence of Tally as well as Coli did.

They were the best of nights and they were the worst of nights, but they were definitely A NIGHT.

Coli, we miss you.

Sincerely,
Everyone