Bar 11-Second Person creative writing in-class project

Walk up 11th street and you are almost there. You will shuffle by a doorbell. Honestly, a bell that hangs off the door. Do not ring it: you will only cause problems. Remember this piece of vital information later because you will need it. Continue walking past and make the first left. At this point, you can see your destination. Behind a plastic entrenched door lies the wonderland of your choosing. Open the door, pay the three bucks and search the room for someone you know. When you see them, go the other way. If they really want to talk, they will come to you. They were here first, don’t ruin there fun. Take your coat off, become more comfortable, and begin with a drink of your choosing. Do not tip the bartender yet; you will soon be drunk and throwing money on the bar like a desperate businessman in a sleazy strip club. Trust me, the bartender won’t worry about not getting that one-dollar bill from your stingy sober wallet. About half way through your first drink, or if your party finishes their first drinks early, order everyone a “Flaming Dr. Pepper” as well as a Yingling Lager. It is worth is. Do not take pictures: everybody hates those people. Do not stare at the trinkets adorning the wall: you will stick out like a map-wielding first-timer in New York City gawking at how tall the skyscrapers are. Do not buy the person you are attracted to a drink: you’re wasting your money because they’re already taken or not taken to you. Don’t dress down, but don’t dress up. You must find a happy medium of style and comfort, or you will be (please refer to the map carrying visitor in NYC). Don’t drink more than you can handle. If you’re going to vomit, do so outside and leave before that buff guy gets puke on his shoes. He will destroy your face with the flick of his sausage-like forefinger. Do not stare, do not sing by yourself, do not dance unless with someone who doesn’t dance as well as you. Please, I cannot stress this enough, DO NOT think about work, school, your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend, that crusty yellowed blob of mustard on your shoe, that guy from High School you literally ran into on the street, the strange aroma of pigs feet and French fries coming from the person next to you, god, global warming, the current state of affairs, or anything you would bitch, moan, complain, or bring people down with. Just relax, that is the only advice I can give you about Bar 11.