Most of you in my area are familiar with the Fort Collins downtown and/or campus west scene. Here is my interpretation of what your favorite area bar says about you, as a person. (Side note, take this lightly - most of my favorite spots are on here too. If you can't laugh at yourself, then fuck you.)
Coopersmith's: You will drink literally any beer labeled as "craft" and don't mind throwing up for an hour the next morning. For the sake of being different, you will drink a chili beer with a straight face and repeatedly claim that "no, man, this is really good, you gotta try this."
Lucky Joe's: You think that drinking a Car Bomb makes you Irish, and that the guy singing and playing solo acoustic guitar covers of everything from the Beatles to modern pop is edgy, funny, and talented. You also enjoy poorly designed restaurants and having to fight a motherfucker to get a drink.
Tony's (guy): You enjoy steroid use, hair gel, and casual date rape, in addition to Tapout apparel and overuse of the word "bro." It's always the right time for a Jaeger bomb, bro. You have seen every episode of Jersey Shore.
Tony's (girl): You enjoy free drinks even if they taste a little funny, and are still upset with your dad because the BMW he bought you for your high school graduation was the previous year's model. You have a long-term boyfriend, but you break up every two weeks so you can both have an excuse to sleep with other people.
Surfside: You have twelve piercings above the neck and are really into the punk/metal band playing tonight - they're really about to break out onto the scene, man. Your hair color changes each week, but all your clothing is black. You hate every other bar because people give you weird looks. Fuck those squares.
Yeti: You really like pregaming for Rec Room.
Rec Room: You enjoy standing in line for up to an hour, even if wearing the minimum amount of clothing required by law in a sideways snowstorm. If you're a girl, your purse is full of shooters and condoms; if you're a guy the bartender "always hooks you up" because you're "boys." Losing a shoe because it stuck to the dance floor is a biweekly occurrence. You only listen to Top 40.
Bondi: You got kicked out of Rec Room, or they said your sister's ID didn't look like you, plus that bitch friend of yours kept calling you by your real name RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE BOUNCER. I know, right? So fucked up. Whatever, lets go drink Long Islands and dance on the bar.
The Rio: You honestly think that starting out the night with three or four margaritas made with tequila and/or straight grain alcohol is a good idea. You enjoy seeing everyone you went to high school with on a weekly basis, even though you never really got along.
Road 34: You have a "man bun" and ride a "fixie." You may or may not be taking a break from riding said "fixie" to "catch them all." You dress like a lumberjack, but couldn't start a chainsaw if your life depended on it. You also are atrocious at pool.
Sundance (guy): You grew up in Littleton, but you still say "y'all" every other sentence. Your square-toe Ariats (or Justins) are only worn to pop country music shows. You have at some point, either knowingly or unknowingly, taken an underage girl home from here.
Sundance (girl): You and your two to four friends spent three hours making sure your nearly identical outfits didn't match. Your poor, overworked cutoff shorts are trying and failing to contain your ass. You love Jesus, but hate your dad. You won't go home with any guy who has tires smaller than 35" on his dad's lifted truck.
I could go on, but it's 2 am and I ostensibly have shit to do tomorrow.
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