With the plaza up for sale, it's just a matter of time until someone scoops it up. As I reflect upon my time as Georgia Southern, it is not surprising that many of my fun memories are at the plaza -- especially, but not limited to, The Tavern (or Tav as many lovingly call it). In my experience at Southern, the Tavern is a way of life, so much so that it permeates into every day life and transforms perfectly upstanding people into ratchets. The Tav delivers even when we aren't at the plaza.

What does that even mean “When the Tavern Delivers"?

***Stop, wait a minute, grab my cup and put some liquor in it. ***

Well children today we will learn about “that girl." You know the one, because you see her at the Tav all the time. The one all the guys look at and somehow manage to grunt “dat ass" while their jaws hit the floor.

That girl who majestically shakes from left to right, and left again with a drop it low here, a drop low there-- then suddenly you're asking, "Why is she not dropping it low on me?"

Well, maybe you're ugly or don't have enough liquid courage in your system to go up to her like the creep you are, and try to dance with her. Go ahead and try -- you will fail. I know; I've tried. I'm not ashamed to say it. That, or the bouncer tells you to “get off the table" because no one goes to the Tav to see guys dancing on the tables.

Anyways, “that girl." Yeah you got the picture of her in your head. So, what happens when the doors of that wonderful establishment close? What happens to that girl? I'll tell you what happens -- she becomes a special type of ratchet. She is the one that brings joy to the hearts of boys and girls alike. She delivers that Tav spirit everywhere she goes, from the pool, to the backyard of your frat house, or on the coffee table. You know who you are, you wonderful girls you. They get so obliterated that they literally deliver the Tavern experience everywhere they go.

Which is amazing because sometimes I don't want to move from my drunken position at the pool or on the couch, and spend $5 on cover. Look, if you didn't know the Tavern delivered, you do now.

You are going to start looking for these girls in class, like an intense game of “Where's Waldo?" She might be wearing a baseball cap to hide her ratchet hair from the night before, and say something like:

She could be sitting right next to you in class; she could be one of the smartest girls you know -- just waiting for a few sips of vodka water lime to release the ratchet inside.

Just be prepared to snapchat your friends about it, because she is about to deliver the Tavern to you. Don't get it confused; I am not hating on them, because without those girls, college would not be as memorable.

Tavern, thank you because I don't know what it is, but y'all got some sort of Miasma that seeps into the veins of some these girls. You can take the girl out of Tav, but you can't take the Tav out of the girl -- and for that, we are grateful.