We all hate those girls at parties who dance so trashy we ask why they’re even attending college anyway; they could be very successful strippers and be free of having to take out student loans. Yet again, I am that girl. Prom was the first time I tried out my scandalous dance moves, which are evocative of the bar dance scene in the movie Coyote Ugly. When I got to college, it seemed like the perfect place to master these moves, and every weekend I got in my practicing. I would begin by dancing within my small group of girls, scouting out the attractive males of the party, and then run over to a prospect and ask him to dance. Rising BAC levels facilitated my trashy moves, and if the guy tried to do anything more I would usually make out with him for a little bit and then run back to my group of friends and start the process all over again. During Christmas break, I attended a party with a group of my old high school friends. My friend Derrick allotted me two beers, fully aware of my tolerance level, but after he had consumed a hefty amount of alcohol I was able to convince him to give me a few more. The party was full of people, but most were outside smoking, sitting on couches chatting with each other, or playing beer pong. All I wanted to do was dance. The basement was perfect for a dance party and I wanted to get things going. I walked over to the host of the party as he was perusing through his iTunes library in search of dance music to get people out on the floor. “PLAY SHE’S MY CHERRY PIE!” I shrieked. Moments later, Warrant was screaming from the speakers and the entire party looked over at me on the floor, on my knees, flipping my hair around and dancing all over.