ON CAMPUS — Let’s face it: If you’re saucing it up by yourself, you’re either a pathetic sap or a writing major. Embrace this sad truth with a dark place to sit alone and mix VO with tears: the Grove Caffe’s hidden patio. Directly above the comforting tinker of the Craft Center, these secluded, rustic booth tables buried in forest can help drown your sorrows without the bother of human interaction; a passerby or two may stumble near en route to their cars, but don’t worry, they’ve no reason to stop. Unless, of course, they happen to be fellow writing majors looking to pen midnight ponderings by the glow of their MacBooks and the warm gold of a stiff Black Velvet.

OFF CAMPUS — After the sports-bar facelift of Ocean Beach’s Arizona Cafe (now with stadium lighting and floors you could eat off) the best spot to kiss the bottle now resides in University Heights. After reciting poetry to an unreceptive audience at one of numerous hipster-art cafes near the end of Park Avenue, drag your misunderstood soul to the corner and duck inside Lancer’s. Slide into the back corner and and order a $5 double of the house blend. Dim cave lighting, wall-to-wall blood-red paint and the crack of pool balls will help lighten the news that your soul mate is sleeping with her biochem professor, and when the jukebox plays Godhead’s thick, electric cover of “Eleanor Rigby” for the third time, mention of “All the lonely people” will be more than enough to prompt an eyebrow for the double-D in the low-cut zebra print and a shout to the bartender: How much for the whole bottle?