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Clubbing
08 June 2003 @ 3:07 p.m.
I need to remember to be spontaneous more often. Get out there and honestly act like a single, attractive, outgoing, young woman. I must remember that there are ways for me to get out now and again even when I am broke, though last night was a bit much for my measly little budget.
My oldest bestest Scout friend called me up randomly last night around 9:20 p.m. She and her sister are going to a club near her and want me to come. They�re leaving almost immediately. Now, this club is well over an hour from where I am. And she dares call me at 9:20 and wants me to come? But she�s way too convincing for her little blonde self and I proceed to get the hair up, face done, and �club clothes� on in a matter of minutes. I�m still not sure how I got this mass of hair up and pinned in such short time. Really, I�m not one for the uber-spontaneous, only semi.
Clubs in mid-Michigan are horrible. Music is all top-40 crap, dance floor is minuscule, drinks are over priced and all of the men are short. Yet this was apparently the best club in the area. It was huge, lots of neon lights, and like four bars � but nothing else.
I have truly been spoiled by the clubs in downtown Minneapolis.
But I went along with it, drank my rum, got whatever groove on I could find. The usual event occurred � I�m in a group of three or four girls, and I�m always the �ugly smart one�. It�s the theory that a few of my guy friends informed me of a while back � there�s the pretty unaccessable one, the whore, and then the ugly smart one. Guys who want to dance with the pretty one or the whore must go through the third first, introduce themselves, talk a bit only to get the name of the other girl. It�s like the female screening process. I have this thing where all of my friends are incredibly beautiful, thin, athletic, and intelligent. I�m the first to admit that I�m usually the least attractive. It�s fine, because I�m fairly confident in myself but the sociologist in me always looks at the �club mating patterns� that we all know occur.
Thing is, I was approached by a guy (who was of course significantly shorter than me � why can�t we breed tall men? It isn�t my fault I�m tall!) danced a bit, he proceeds to tell me he wanted to dance with me because I�m �sweet and simple� unlike the other �thong-wearing-hos� that go to clubs like this. So basically told me I�m plain. That�s fine, whatever. He wasn�t a horrible dancer though far from the greatest. Wind up going to another section of the club to talk. Lo and behold (drum roll please) . . . he�s still in school part time for . . . computer science. That�s when I got a good look at him, dark hair, dents in the nose where he usually wears glasses, etc etc. He�s a nice guy and seems to truly like me, something that is odd. Does the whole �I want to see you again� routine. Thankfully my friend came and pulled me out at the last minute. Not that he was horrible, but please!
Overall it was a good night. I had missed hanging out with her, and now that we know that we both will be in the area for a while we plan on going out and wreaking havoc in mid- and southeastern-Michigan for the rest of the summer. She�s even willing to stalk J with me. How crazy is that?
Now I have the entire afternoon to sort out everything I witnessed last night � the club, the crowd, the dress style, etc. I might as well learn as much as I can about what is �in� down here.
Again, the sociologist/observer in me comes out.
currently reading: Lyon�s Pride � Anne McCaffrey
currently listening: local radio.
