Phoenix Open. From happiness to homeless.

This friday, my sorority posse and I, ventured to Scottsdale to attend the Phoenix open. We left Tucson, in high hopes for the weekend as we sipped on our starbucks and blasted britney spears in my car titled ‘snowcat’. Things were going well. I managed to not get a speeding ticket on the desolate highway, found a parking spot 100

James Ahn, me, John Mathis, and Alyssa Nikolas at the 19th hole

feet from nordstroms, and split a pitcher of sangria with my underage friend Alyssa Nikolas. Not only were these lucky occurences but our hotel, Hilton garden suites was

Eric (Dylan's Brother) and I in a tent with our elite passes

walking distance from the bar Patties.

The open gods seemed to be in our favor. That is until saturday.

After getting up at 8 am after going to bed at 4, all 10 of us were ready to go for the open. we had a noise complaint, but the manager appeared more amused by our actions than annoyed.   Called for cabs but instead got into an SUV that charged us 30 dollars. We gave $25 got out of the car and then began having the time of our lives. My boyfriend Dylan’s family gave me a pass for the elite tents. So happy, we trotted to the open with promise that it would deliver a great day.

On the way, Dylan lost his pass (which is valued over $200) forcing us to macgiver around the open. After refusing to take my pass, his brother and I went to one of the tents and had a grand old time with the high society of Phoenix. After chugging down my crown royal and coke as we overlooked the course, we slipped out and went to find dylan. We met up my friends, found his brothers, and went to another company tent to enjoy our free drinks.

Things were going great! Dylan and I left, went to RA and sake bombed, watched the UA basketball game at patties, then stumbled back to the Hilton inn to meet up with the sorority posse.

Just as the night was getting started, a knock on the door from our fave manager threatening to kick us out if we didn’t “settle down.” No one was doing a beer bong or anything illegal, simply sitting around and eating nachos.

5 minutes later….

another knock. “you’re out. You have 20 minutes until we call the cops. I’ve given you enough chances. You are now being asked to leave.” Hoping that we could persuade the manager from making us homeless, Meg mc and I went downstairs, but the manager continued to be a douchelord and told us we had to leave.

So we were homeless. In Scottsdale. We threw our stuff in the cars, and thought we could go out to see where the night would take us. One of the members of the posse, K mulf, was not having a good night, and was not willing to venture to the bars. the open gods, were on our side, when K mulf was sober to driver and Meg mc was a phoenix local living in Ow-a-took-ee.

All in all, the night ended with taco bell and me chugging emergen-c.

Other than being homeless, the Open was a great success.