Everyone has that friend who floats between social groups at the bar. He allows people to buy rounds, but when it’s his turn, he’s on to the next table. They call that man Columbus, and he’s the worst person in the world.
This is especially true if you go to the bar for a college game. It’s easy to explore every table when you can catch up with old friends you haven’t seen in ages. I could spend the entire Michigan vs. Kansas game this Friday wandering to the far corners of the bar, accepting drinks along the way from people who didn’t realize I would be onto the next conquest by the time their beer ran dry. Lucky for them I’m a Wolverine, which means I hate Columbus.