I went to a night club for the first time last night ( how/why they let me through their doors is beyond my limited understanding, maybe because I came along with a date?!?!) and the above picture explains my experience. 8 dollar cokes (I was the designated driver) and permanent eye damage caused by strobe lights.

The doorman made me tuck my shirt in to enter, which I suppose was for security reasons because it sure as hell wasn’t because they wanted to run a “classy” operation. Because nothing says “class” than watching 50 year old men trying to pick up uninterested girls more than half their age. Good thing I had a date with me because I would hate to lower my standards and become like those sorry losers in the game of life. But then again, by looking at the quality of woman that was in attendance last night, I don’t know why those men even bothered in such a futile exercise in the first place.

The music was loud, but the DJ was horrible at picking song selections based on the reactions of the crowd. 70’s-80’s R&B seemed to get the people moving out on the dance floor but the DJ would kill the mood by playing long stretches of modern dance/pop to which no wanted to stay on the dance floor for. I’m no expert on club culture by any means, but I thought it was the DJ’s job to keep the people moving on the dance floor. I suppose that the DJ somehow thought that was the job of the outrageously high drink prices at the bar…

Also, here’s a note to myself: the next time, if there ever is an next time, that I go to a night club, make sure I master some more dance moves before hand other than the one that I call the “malfunctioning autistic robot.” It looks just as bad as it sounds.

Other than all that, I had a decent time last night.

jareddriskill