Frat boys linger late at the bar, throwing out baitless pick-up lines at all the pretty girls misbehavin’ for the lovin’ and attention. Gobsmacked by their lack of success, blaming rejection on the game and not their feeble hunting techniques.
All popped collars, and gelled hair, believing they’re irresistable and not just ridiculous. Puffed out chests, and puffed out egos, clipped wings that can’t soar off balconies, falling short of the concrete ponds.
Twenty-one shots in the dark hit the spot until the morning their whole weekend is lost. A souvenir from their first time away from home.
*Spring Break has brought hundreds, if not thousands, of college co-eds to our beaches. Every year there are reports of some drunken reveler being injured falling from a resort balcony trying to jump into the hotel pool. I haven’t read about any balcony divers yet this year, but there were more than 200 arrests for underage drinking in the first two weeks of the season.