You’ve had a few vodka tonics…or five. Your favorite song has been played by the DJ once or twice, and your feet have been hurting since before you left your house. Your cleavage is sticky from spilled drinks, either by your own devising or your wing-gal. You maybe have cried already, be it was in a secluded booth with your besties, or in a bathroom with a very random, very drunk girl. This girl is your best friend, and this girl is you.