Friday, November 13, 2009

I dance like I'm having a seizure, but less sexily

Last night I went dancing, specifically dressing up to go ballroom dancing. Which was like the nightmare where I'm continuously fucking up in front of an audience, and people are laughing and pointing, but this was WAY more boring. The moral of the story is, I can learn to samba, but the moment the instructor makes me be her follower and all my mostly-okay BS is exposed, and she has to stop the lesson to make me less of a fuckup but it doesn't work, then I'm dejected and sulk in a corner. I tried to be a good sport and I grinned and had a decent time, but no way was I letting all those old people touch me. Especially when I was so bad, and they were so good.

Someone in our group was like "lol this isn't your scene" and I was like "lol no, my scene is more like UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ" and somehow we ended up clubbing for reals. After they got 'tired' of it, I'm really freakin' hoping it wasn't because of me. I didn't want to be a buzzkill; I was just the only person there who had never taken ballroom dancing. I have rhythm and everything, I swear. I could have faked it but no way.

Anyway, we went downtown and found ourselves in a club where everybody else except the bartender was distinctly Not White. I like hip hop, and I can dance (fuck the title of this post, my hips don't lie), but the fact that we were there was the most entertaining thing ever apparently. I could practically hear whispers of 'This is better than BET!' floating around* as we hit the dance floor. But we were totally hot (I can say this cuz I have low self-esteem but I know good dancing and at least everybody else in my group was hot, and my bff and I ground so hard I'm halfway certain I'm preggers now by that girl). It's just that everybody was watching us and I'm pretty sure some were laughing (in impressed joy, probably). We were also in ballroom dancing clothes vs. clubbing clothes. We kinda cleared the floor. I didn't realize this until my heart started hurting (I skipped my heart meds last night and now expect to go through some fun withdrawal today) and we sat out, and then it was packed again. Oh maaaaaaan. Like Awkward turtle had millions of Awkward babies. (The rest of the night was less uncomfortable/fun and more boring. We went to another bar but bounced to go get Mexican food. A good decision on our part, indeed.)

So there are the unspoken rules of the club, usually limited to 'don't leave your drink on the bar' and 'have a signal for when a creeper is grinding into your ass so you can be rescued.' That's the basic shit, stuff you go over with newfies to clubs so they're not raped at any point. But there are a few rules that I've only learned through experience:

1. Get the hell out of a club before the lights come on. There's two reasons for that: one, you miss the mass of drunk that escapes at that point. Always nice to leave a few minutes early and not have to run bitches over to get out of the area. Two: you do not want to see the floor. You might be fooled into thinking it was clean when the only light was flashing from a strobe twenty feet overhead, but then the lights come on and you see the mass of empty cups, used condoms, and hypodermic needles. And then you automatically get every VD ever for just looking at it. And cancer. You also get cancer.

2. Not only do you not put your drink down, if your club is Sketchville, don't ever let it out of your sight. If you're a girl, take advantage of the fact that you look cute and helpless if you hold it two inches from your boobs with hunched shoulders. Because if you take that drink and just hold it out two feet in front of you, into a crowd of dancing people, it could come back with no less than seven different types of tranquilizers, rape drugs, and E/heroin combo's. Trust me, in good rave clubs you can OD by just inhaling deeply. Your alchie does not leave your immediate sight for longer than a blink.

3. You might laugh at the girls for going off to the bathrooms in groups, but if one of you has to go to the bathroom, you ALL GO. Unless the club is small, there must be a mass to the bathroom. Otherwise one of your party will pass out in a stall and get raped and end up stripping in a really horrible stripclub so her kid can go to school so don't do it.

4. Don't go in with white shoes. They will come out all sorts of fun colors. And stuff will splash on your feet. Unless you have an open wound and it was a cup of pure AIDS suck it up, it will wash off. If you don't want your shoes dirty, don't wear them around throngs of inebriated people. Although you do need shoes; see tip #1.

5. Tip the goddamn bartenders. Even if you get water. They work with your drunk ass for a living. And, if you're generous, you get lots more alchie in your next drink and sometimes you get free drinks. Especially if you yell at the top of your lungs about how cute the bartender is, which works even with gay ones, something I learned by drunken accident.

6. Don't bitch about people wanting to dance with you. Yeah, it's annoying when creepers rub up against you. But you came to a public place to dance, where people dance with everybody else. You probably dressed up. Your dancing is most likely sexy. Everything in your body language says you're here to get nookie. Trust me, I understand, I wouldn't go to a club for sex just like I wouldn't go to the AIDS clinic to share needles. But at the same time, these boobs were made to be showed off. Just politely decline, no need to get nasty or bite anybody's face off. Your friends will laugh with you later about creepers but silently they'll be calling you a douche canoe for the unnecessary reaction. Plus, if you pick fights with drunks, it doesn't matter how much of a girl you are. Shit could go down.

That's it for now. My experience is now your experience. You're welcome.

*if you were offended by that, might just spare yourself the trouble and never come here again.

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