During final exams of 2nd year university, it was unseasonably hot. Melissa and I had finished our last exams, headed over to Grant and Darrell’s to begin our adventure.

This was the phase in our lives, where Melissa and I were each other’s perfect wing partners (PWP’s). We ate a lot of chicken wings and met a lot of boys.

This night, however, we technically did not meet any boys…

After we left our favourite stomping ground – Trappers Alley – Melissa and I headed over to get much needed after the bar Chinese food, aka Sun Suns.

The two of us decided it would be a great idea to walk the 45 minutes to our house that was pretty much in another town. As we were walking down the street, shovelling noodles, chicken balls and broccoli down our throats a few fellas on the other side of the road started cat calling us.

I had 3-5 seconds to think about how I would respond. In order of thought process:

1. I’m drunk
2. I’m sweaty
3. I’m trying to eat my delicious Sun Sun’s

I then blurted out ‘WE’RE BUSY’ at the top of my lungs.

I mean really, at that point there was nothing cute about us anymore. Our sun dresses were covered in Sun Sun’s, our bodies were sticky with sweat, and I’m pretty sure one – if not both – of us were pretty one-eyed.

Here’s my question: In what world would two stumbling drunk girls scarfing down Chinese food ever be sexy? What’s that all about? Calling out to us seemed like a desperate plea after a night of unsuccessful floor scraping.