Once upon a time there was a highly-anticipated party at a club on 17th and Walnut, thrown by one of Penn’s underground frats (I guess technically they don’t exist…so maybe last night’s misery didn’t actually happen, either). What with fliers featuring two girls making out and a promise that there would be no problem getting in with fake IDs, I think it’s safe to say that everyone was pretty pumped.

Apparently, the frat had talked to the club owners and bouncers beforehand, coming to the symbiotic agreement that the former needed a venue for underage drinkers and the latter was going to be cool with it.

Now, the plot thickens.

For when a group of the aforementioned underage drinkers arrived at the club in their horse-drawn carriage (also known as a cab with stuck windows and no air-conditioning), they noticed a huge angry/worried/hushed crowd gathered in front of the club.

At the head of this group was our tale’s equivalent to the evil stepmother – the bouncer (who the guys claimed was “a really big douche”), deciding that he actually wasn’t so keen on the fake Florida IDs with the laminated covers peeling off, after all. So the little underage drinkers had to go back to campus and spend the night wandering from house to house, looking for something fun to do. The End.

I guess we should be grateful, because last night’s situation is pretty rare for Penn students – usually when frats plan parties at certain Philadelphia clubs, the venues are notoriously lax about accepting fake IDs. I figure that the city recently dubbed “Killadelphia” has bigger things to worry about than some 19-year-olds drinking a few beers.

It’s a sticky situation for both the students, who don’t want to get in trouble for their less-than-legitimate forms of identification, and the clubs, who don’t want to get busted by the cops.