Go HERE for photos from Third Edition's last night!
As we say goodbye to a DC institution, we should remember--or kinda remember--the good times that we have shared in Thirds. We owe a lot to Third Edition: meeting new friends (and re-meeting them in the morning), DFMO-ing with your International Relations TA, bar fights, and blurry iPhone photos with people you don’t know.
We all have different relationships with that place. Whether you were hitting on chicks by the tiki bar, dancing with your girls on the stage or ripping shots downstairs, there was one thing you could be sure of: you would be surrounded by your drunk cohorts, underage patrens and creepy balding middle-age men people you loved.
As we continue on this wild road of life, I know we will bring a bit of Thirds with us. We’ve left with hickeys, vodka-soaked shoes, and mysterious phone numbers named “Bathroom BFF,” but we have left a bit of ourselves there in return.Along with iPhones, fake IDs, open tabs, and shame, we’ve left our memories. That is the sign of a good drinking establishment.
Don’t cry because it’s the over. Smile because it happened.
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