Home Lifestyle The Awfulest of Arthurs: A Tribute

The Awfulest of Arthurs: A Tribute


Written by the Editor Staff (The legal ones, anyway)

About every other Thursday, the 21+ members of the staff here at the BA celebrate their nights off and head to the most hoppin’ place on Main Street, and we think that it deserves a tribute.

We shall miss the DJ who has decided that Emma and Shamira are BOTH his girlfriends, even though they are still skeptical of polyamory.

We shall miss the bouncers, who scare because they care.

(We shall not, however, miss the rude bouncer who acts like he doesn’t know who Shamira is OR that his scarf is the most tragic idea since Jagerbombs were invented by the Germans.)

We shall miss the front bar, where the bartenders always know we, as Thrifty Legends, are COMING for that PBR.

We shall miss the shark attacks, which are never a good idea, but taste really effing good going down. Less effing good coming back up. We digress.

We shall miss the dartboards and the pool tables that none of us really ever got to use because APPARENTLY you have to pay to use them? Like, what?

We shall miss the veranda, where everyone goes to get fresh air OR to smoke a cigarette, which remains one of the great mysteries of bar etiquette.  

We shall miss the Salemite men who try to come home with us and who “don’t care if we have a roommate.” (Actually, on second thought, we won’t miss that at all.)

We shall miss the Salemite women, who rock Ed Hardy t-shirts and low-rise jeans like nobody’s business.  

We shall miss the signs for the expensive seafood that we will literally NEVER eat, because the Brackety-Ack checks really don’t pay that much.

We shall miss the old men who buy the gals drinks and then leave them alone for the rest of the night. You are a rare breed, indeed.

And thank you.

Thank you to the baseball team for wearing dangly earrings and tight shirts.

Thank you to the rugby players who we saw kissing at the bar one time.

Thank you to the Chi O sisters who make every College Night feel like a “girls’ night out.”

Thank you to the Education majors who come out, once in a blue moon, and go hard, even though they have to see the kids in the morning.

Thank you to everyone who has made College Night at Awful Arthur’s such a fun time, week after week, and for providing excellent storytelling material. Roanoke College wouldn’t be nearly as Awful without you.