Wednesday, February 8
Anyway, I've been meaning to write about this for quite a long time.
Clubbing. Fuck man, I haven't even been clubbing and I hate it already. What's all this rush to go anyway?
The way I see it, correct me if I'm wrong, the cycle goes kinda like this.
People get all dolled up and wear next to nothing. The girls put on what seems like 3 miles of make up on their already porcelain-perfect faces. The guys don't have to bother with the nitty gritties. After all, the girls are the ones who steal the show.
They flag a cab ($10 gone!) and wait in queue for about what, 2 hours? (Haha I know! I love to exaggerate!) Pay yet another what, $15 (!!!) JUST to get in.
Order up a drink! Ka-Ching! Yet another $15(!!!!!!) gone, just like that. You "dance" and get high, without noticing the 92340234048 guys groping your ass. Ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching!! 3 more drinks and you've spent yet another $45 dollars. Gee! That would take me 10 hours to earn!
By your 5th drink, you've spent a hundred dollars. The world around you spins and you don't know whats happening. You've made out with 3/4 of the people there and you're looking for the next victim. Man, you're piss drunk now. You can barely get up, and no one wants to tongue you cause they're afraid of getting your barf on their new Armani shirt.
Plonk, out you go. Crap, the bouncer has kicked you out! Now what do you do?
With one heel broken from trying to hump the hot guy with the goatee, you stumble into a cab. $30 gone once you reach your doorstep. Damn that midnight surcharge!
Using all your strength you can muster, you finally fit the key in the lock and actually manage to open it! A big improvement from last week! You head straight for the toilet (cistern of course) and puke your brains out. Forget that bath man. The toilet is now your new bed - you'll be camping out tonight.
"Eh?"
Your dad finds you, head in the bowl and smelly from a combination of alcohol, vomit and cigarette. Your head hurts and you don't remember a thing from last night besides the colour of your puke, and that pungent cigarette/rum odour.
That isn't the way I want to spend my Friday/Saturday nights/mornings, with my head in the toilet, a massive headache and being smelly from smoke. Then 2 days later, finding out from your friends how many guys you grinded that night.
Like I said, I haven't been clubbing, I haven't been near a club, and already, I can't stand like 80% of the people who I know club. The music doesn't get to me anyway, and I hate my hair smelling like fag.
I'm not denying. I do want to experience it. But after tons of thinking, I don't see what that draw is. To spend heaps of cash, get wasted, taken advantage of and not remember a single thing that happened the night before. Don't get me wrong, do it if you'd like to. I'm just not that kinda girl.
Now seriously, someone come and enlighten me.
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