At The Sandbar

When I first arrived at the sandbar, I did not know what to expect. As I walked up to the crowd of people surrounding the bonfire, I could tell this party was not just going to be music and hanging out. The smell of beer and marijuana smoke lingered in the air as I contemplated whether or not to leave. Looking across the blazing flames, I saw a cheerleader puking her guts up beside someone's truck. The chunky yellow liquid sold me; I was in the wrong place and going to this party was a mistake. When I arrived home, I got online and began to chat with my friends. One of them informed me that the police had busted the party shortly after I left and arrested several of the drunken hooligans. As I read the screen again, I thought about how glad I was that I left the sandbar.