Monday, July 24, 2006

I love the nightlife Part II

(Originally written Friday, February 24, 2006)

Lines! Why are there always lines? Everywhere you go you've got to wait forever! What's the point? Hell, you'll probably spend more time in the damn line then in the club. Good thing you pre-gamed back at your crib. Got a decent buzz going. Should last a while.
Here you are in line. If you were a chick you'd been in already. Weird how clubs will turn away 8 million guys, but let in every chick they see. Don't they understand that if there are no guys in the clubs the women won't be staying very long anyway?
If you were Jay-Z or some shit, you could make your own damn club. Wouldn't that be sweet? You'd decide who could come in, who couldn't. Kinda like playing God. Guess that's why the bouncers got egos.
If you were famous you wouldn't have to wait in line either. They'd hustle you in and give you your own v.i.p. section. Nobody allowed in. Doesn't make sense to you either. The point of going out to clubs is to interact with people. Who're you interacting with behind your velvet ropes, privacy curtains, and several hundred pounds of personal security? You could stay at home for that shit. The only benefit that you can see is that everybody can see how you've got your own "off limits area". Show off. Ladies don't mind the obvious displays of wealth, makes 'em feel important or something.
At the front of the line now. Took you long enough, damn! Here's where the fun begins. Good thing you brought money. You're going to need it. You've gotta sell kidneys just to be able to pay for a decent night out nowadays.
Cover charge, Way too much. No choice though, they know they've got you by the balls. All the girls come here, so you've got to come here too. Basic economics, supply, demand. Legal prostitution, but without the guarantee of sex. Only guarantee is that you'll spend an ass load of money.
You're finally inside. Where should you go? A walk around of the entire place seems good. Scope it out, see how everything's going on.
Too bad you can't go anywhere. Isn't there a fire code or something about limit of people allowed in the building? Damn, feels like a packed slave ship or some shit. Well, you can at least try to get to the bar. A drink will help you figure out your next step, plus it gives you something to do so you don't just stand there like an idiot.
Crowd's thick. Even if you waved a gun around you probably couldn't have gotten to the bar any quicker. Of course all the stools are taken. What do people do, come here in the middle of the afternoon to get a stool then refuse to get up? It's like the damn things are willed from generation to generation. Maybe you should bring your own next time you come. That'd be interesting; would they even let you in if you were carrying your own stool? Probably not, it would prohibit them from getting more money from you somehow.
Getting to the bar isn't enough. Now you've got to get the attention of the overworked bartenders. You feel for those people. The girls are always hot, so you know they get hit on constantly. The music is always too loud, you wonder how they can hear your order. Wave a twenty around, that'll get their attention. Scotch on the rocks, more bang for your buck.
That pre-gaming did help. You're feeling this one drink already. Way to think ahead. Now you won't spend as much for drinks tonight as you would for a new car. You're not cheap or anything, but there's no need to spend more than necessary.
Alright, now to the general direction of the dance floor. Careful, don't spill your drink in this tidal wave of people. Being a little tipsy looseness you up. Gets you throwing elbows to get through the throng. Just hope nobody tries to start shit, you just got here. Haven't even finished your drink yet.
Fifteen minutes later you're finally near the dance floor. You really didn't have to go there you know. It's a club, people dance wherever they want to. That constitutional right is mostly used by white girls who only have one dance move and are under the misconception that they've got asses, but it's still an option.
Gotta get out there. Girls love a guy who dances. They love to dance. Most girls actually come to dance. Isn't that stupid? Guys come to meet chicks and get ass if possible. Girls come to dance and have fun. Fun? They've got it all wrong. That's why there are so many problems at clubs; both sexes are at the same place for different reasons.
Let's see. She's fine, so's she. Uh oh, there's group of girls dancing in a circle. Gotta stay away from them. They're exactly what you don't want. Girls out just to dance. Looking around as if daring a guy to come up and try to dance with them so they can bite his head off. Funk that.
Here she is. Perfect, she just got out on the floor. No other guys have noticed her yet. You've gotta get there first, take initiative. Get up close. One hand on her back, or somewhere neutral. (no need to get freaky yet) one hand still holding your drink. She's feeling it. Good. Gotta keep her facing you. As soon as she turns her back you to dance you won't be able to look at her face, or make a connection. Having her ass so close to you would be nice, but you've got to think past the immediate.
It's working. She's not moving off. Now keep this up for a few songs. Show her you've got stamina. Show her you can keep it up. Keep it loose, keep it natural. Girls can tell when you're forcing the rhythm. All it takes is a couple of salsa classes. That's a sexy dance, girls drool when they see a guy who can really dance. Should feel sorry for all those guys just standing there, they've got no clue.
Four songs is enough, don't want to get too sweaty. Besides, you need another drink. Take her with you.
Whisper in her ear. She down for somewhere quieter? Yeah? Alright, time to take this operation into the next phase. Sit down, talk her up for awhile. Keep eye contact. If you look distracted they lose interest. Physical contact. Hand on her shoulder, something simple. Forms a bond. Try to look like you're not wandering off mentally. True, she's got nothing to say that you want to hear, but they love to talk about themselves. Give her the chance.
That's enough talk. Time to go. She gonna come with you?

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