Culture Box
Darkness with blinding flashes of light, screaming, several not so pleasant smells warring for attention, limited dance floor space and bad service translates to a night of oh-so-wonderful clubbing in GT (Georgetown).
So what not to do on such a wonderful night? That’s up to you of course but perhaps you’ll learn something from listening to me rant about my night of clubbing last Saturday.
Now on such a night – if you’re paranoid like I am – then you might as well be prepared for the possibility of experiencing or witnessing at least one robbery, fist fight or “buse out”. It was my lucky night to witness a “buse out” which very nearly turned into a “cat fight”. Entertaining, is it not? Not!
Witnessing two drunken shrews – dressed in as little as they could manage – cackle at each other when you have three hours worth of beer and water in your bladder tends to do things to your good mood. So I’m standing there, tapping a stiletto clad foot, waiting for these shrews to get out of my way so I can relieve myself.
Suddenly one of them pulls the front of her shirt open and screams something at the other. Maybe they were arguing about who was wearing the nicer bra. I didn’t bother listening. It was my cue to go use the men’s room. At least guys don’t block the way to the toilets!
Is it me? Or is drama a constant companion of mine?
Needless to say I kept visiting the men’s room until 4 Sunday morning. I noticed that for some reason our clubs are never out of crazy shrews. Now, don’t go getting the wrong impression. I’m not picking on the women. I’m about to move on to the men.
At 1 am I gave up my waiter hunting quest and made my way over to the bar with my God sis – whose bright idea it was for us to go visit that particular club. I am so amazed at how little effort it takes for a woman to get free drinks all night. All she has to do is be average looking and strategically display some of her womanly assets.
So should I tell you how much I spent that night? I won’t. But it isn’t as much as I would’ve if I were ugly and my legs were covered. Trust me on this. Well guess what? I felt bad later Sunday morning when I thought of all those men – who probably have access to far less spending money – buying me drinks.
There were several all male groups at this particular club. It was so ridiculous. I was wondering if they’d start group dancing after they’d had enough to drink. Sadly, they didn’t. What they did do was make their way to the dance floor and look for females dancing with each other. I later realized this was their method of hunting for female company. How desperate is that?
I’m trying to decide what the most important lesson I learnt that night is. There’s stiff competition here. But both of them made it down on my what-not-to-do-when-clubbing-in-GT list.
Now some time during the night I realized that smart phones aren’t so smart. I accidentally sent a message to the wrong group of contacts. These are people I deal with on a professional level and I have no idea what they were thinking when they saw a message about clubbing from me at such an unholy hour. I guess it was all the flashing lights. I was blinded for a few seconds.
I also learnt that the club’s darkness and blinding flashes of light do nothing to hide your identity. I got home just before dawn on Sunday and you wouldn’t believe how many people knew I’d been clubbing. Oh my! How news flies in GT! (srh.midnight@gmail.com)
