Dearly beloveds, we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy matrimony of two wonderful things, kept separate by the holier-than-thou city of Tuscaloosa. If anyone has any reason why students and alcohol should not be united on Sundays, please put down your drink and exit the premises.

Go back to the glory days when the Bear still ran things, when a Miller High Life was the only remedy needed for relaxation, when Mom and Dad still footed the bill. In the South, God and football govern all. They share the same faithful day. Well, in Tuscaloosa, the Man thinks that this day should be a dry one.

Fellow students, fellow party-goers, fellow drinkers of all things sugary and cheap, we are called the leaders of tomorrow. Well, what about today? What about Sunday?

Do they think we lack the maturity, discipline and respect?

This is the South! Respect is taught to us before the color blue! And how tasty those blue Miller Lite aluminums are! How thrilling the moment those mountains on Coors Light cans turn frosty blue! Well, we as students are tired of being blue on Sundays. We’re craving a change.

How many times have you – yes, you underage chuggernaut with the fake ID – woken up on a Sunday morning, gone through your homework schedule mentally, and realized that your Sunday is school-free? How many times has your mind killed your no-study buzz with the information that your fridge is empty, that your keggerator is dry, and that your careless roommate left your bottle of wine sitting uncorked on the counter all night?

So, you then move to the decision that your Sunday fun day will be spent, depending on your sex, either watching Lifetime movies all day whilst constantly hitting the refresh button on your Facebook page, or gorging yourself with Mugshots and spending the rest of the day watching football and playing Call of Duty interchangeably.

You could be spending the day far more productively, meeting new people and networking for jobs and internships and stuff for your resume that, let’s face it, could use some more stuff. Alcohol is the social lubricant. Who knows, what if you attended a casual afternoon brewed with a keg and a few friends? You might end up talking to Joe Somebody, whose dad is the man in charge of whatever it is you’re trying to break into.

Instead of spending the day sweating out your Gallette’s bar tab, you could be enjoying yourself with friends and new contacts in the cozy confines of a friend’s backyard or at the Bear Trap. (Just another reason to open alcohol sales for Sunday…Bear Trap has the best, most underrated food ever. They have lettuce wraps, people.) This brings me to my next point.

When is the last time you saw your favorite band? Is your favorite band Fly By Radio? Didn’t think so. You probably had to travel for your concert. Most concerts are on Sunday nights. And who wants to attend a dry concert? In all honesty, who wants to attend a concert at the Dixie at all … wait.

They’re building us a gorgeous amphitheatre for real concerts, right here in Tuscaloosa! If we had alcohol sales on Sunday, there would be more concerts, restaurants and hotels! Do your parents complain about staying at the Capstone whenever they come see you and buy you five of everything at Target? Mine do.

I bet your parents would come hook you up with groceries and fresh new sneaks more often if they could stay at a Hilton. But they can’t. Hilton stocks their mini-fridges, standard. And they won’t come unless we sell alcohol on Sundays.

But it gets worse. How many of you salivated when I said, “lettuce wraps?” Yeah, you’ve been to PF Chang’s. Although we’re not really sure which kind of Asian sensation food they’re channeling, we know we love it all. Especially the lettuce wraps.

And who’s tired of craving good Italian food without having to go downtown and pay twelve bucks for mediocre macaroni? Give me back my Macaroni Grille!

These quality restaurants will never come to Tuscaloosa because they depend on alcohol sales for their quotas.

Thirdly, the people of Tuscaloosa say that Sunday is God’s day. Well, I am very offended by this as I am Catholic, and part of our Mass is receiving the blood of Christ in the form of wine. So there, I’m offended.

Who’s with me? Without Sunday alcohol sales, we students are more inclined to sit around and play Black Ops all day, or worse, get sucked in to watching “Charlie St. Cloud” amidst tears from a roommate who clearly will not get a next-day text-back from that guy she kissed at the quickest grill.

Without Sunday alcohol sales, we are being deprived of great hotels and lettuce wraps from PF Chang’s. Good stuff. Plus, are they really going after the Catholics, again? That was so 300 years ago.

So refill your drink, tuck in that beer belly, and let’s second-line to the ballot on February 22nd.

Kingsley Clark is a junior majoring in communications studies and creative writing.