Monday, April 16, 2012

Party Rocking

So this past weekend I did something I haven't done in about two years (no not have sex-lol)...I went to the club. Not a bar...but an actual club. I came to the realization that despite what I previously believed and tell people, the reason I don't club has nothing to do with my age...it's because I didn't graduate from my anger management course <--I will hit on that later.

Let me give you a back story, so the Army is like college, the Real World, and Jersey Shore all rolled up into a job and a paycheck every two weeks. We partied all the time. Wednesday night- Happy Hour (at one place). Thursday night- Happy Hour (at another place). Friday- partying in the barracks or someone's house. Saturday- CLUB! And on Sunday we are in rehab; drinking plenty of water to prepare for PT in the morning and repair damage we caused. Awww...good times. Around 27 I think, I got into bars. I like bars. You can get a waitress and you can have a real conversation. You aren't screaming over the music and nodding like you hear what the other person is saying...when really- you don't.

So I got the offer to hang out and I was like wow, sure. I mean I hadn't been out in a minute so I was game. Yeah someone actually wants to hang out with meeeeeeee!

Let me just say that the club...has changed. Oh where to start. So when I used to club you either work a spanx worthy dress or a low cut top and some jeans. Top off with cute shoes. Now, oh no the attire is as diverse as the crowd. I know I saw some bridesmaids dresses up in there (I am an avid watcher of Say Yes to the Dress). Now granted there was what looked like a bridal party in there but other than them...I saw some SYTTD-Bridesmaids dresses. I saw shorts...like very uncomfortable looking shorts, cargo pants, sun dresses, some Kardashian type dresses...and a security guard with button back pockets. I felt the need to talk about these pockets because...um are dudes wearing jeans like this? I mean hey can you chase someone down with them tight ass jeans on? And are dudes wearing jeans with button back pockets? No really?

What hasn't changed is dudes and the lame ways they try to cop a feel. Now look, I have done a whole bunch of groping in the club. You walk past a guy and turn to face his massive chest and act like the only way you can get past him is to feel ALL UP on that massive chest "oh excuse me, excuse me". I have felt up backs and yes some fronts but these guys were willing participants. So when the drunk guy with the loosey goosey hands started making his way around I'm like fool I see you and what you are doing. And then he makes his way in my personal space and what does he do, touch my pretty round mound. Now while I wanted to step on his foot with my heels...I didn't. I did grab His butt though. Then told him I know you aren't that drunk and told his friend "get your boi". Thus bringing up my anger management issue.

My sister told me that clubs aren't my thing because I'm old and I have PTSD. I am not old nor do I have PTSD (not severe at least). I just don't like people in my personal space (uninvited) nor do I enjoy people BUMPING into me. I mean really, you aren't that drunk and all you have to is throw up the universal sign for "my bad"- put your hands up and mouth "my bad". That's all I'm asking. See you bumping me and now I'm hot. Not angry but hot...dang the temperature is like on hell up in this piece. <--another reason my sister called me old.

Now I don't want to make it seem like I didn't enjoy myself because I did. My crew was great- especially since they asked me to hang. The DJ was killing it. The crowd, when they weren't bumping me, was cool. Drunk people provide such great laughable moments. Towards the end of the night there was almost a dance battle-lol.

I just hope that the next time I make it to the club it hasn't changed too much.

Rock on.

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