My love/hate relationship with KOK

This semester has been the first time I’ve been 21 in Bloomington.

As a drinking adult, I’ve realized that finding “your” bar is not the easiest task.

Naturally, I began my quest with Kilroy’s on Kirkwood, the most famed Bloomington bar, if for no other reason than because of its convenient location.

But KOK, as I’ve come to appreciate, is a very strange place, at least for me.

If you’re in the greek system, or even just look like it, maybe it’s less daunting.

But walking through the crowded bar with a curly blonde white girl fro and sometimes a backpack full of books  brings me back to a high-school-level anxiety.

For example, last week my senior roommate walked into Kilroy’s and was accosted by the tiniest, most orange female I’ve ever seen.

 “Freshmen!” she sneered drunkenly at us.

What?

That is impossible. It’s at least improbable enough to render the interaction awkward and unsettling. Most freshmen are too frightened to even try to get in to KOK in the first place, and even if they tried, they would know no one.

There are also at least six girls crying at any point in time on the back patio after dusk, which, to be honest, is actually more entertaining than one might think.

On top of the overall weird “Mean Girls” environment, the social cues are all backward, as far as I’m concerned.

Let’s be honest, I’m most likely to be found at KOK on 25 cent wing days.

It seems the only time men feel they should approach me with something resembling an attempt at charisma is when I’m five deep in my wing basket.

This is not the time, boys.

I’m literally chugging beer from the pitcher.

Leave me to my business.

Then, when I attempt to crack into the social scene, it backfires.

Once I was talking to a group of people, and I told a Catholic priest joke to the kid standing next to me.

As soon as I revealed the punchline, “one waits until you’re 13 to come on your face!” the giant fratbag leaned in with, “of all the pick-up lines I’ve ever heard…”

Needless to say, the aforementioned roommate dragged me away as I yelled “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!”

No, no they don’t. But I’ve come to terms with it.

I may not fit in at Kilroy’s, but I’m sure to have a highly entertaining time regardless.

­— gcherney@indiana.edu