The other night (Friday) began the first weekend of my birthday month. September. I do it big every year. Last year, I partied in 3 different cities in one weekend. The year before that I had a big extravaganza (somehow almost got arrested. Long story in itself. But the most important thing is that I don't have a criminal record, right?). But this year? I'm doing events EACH and EVERY weekend in September. Cities will be determined as I go along but, hey, people take over the whole day. I take over the whole month. BUT I digress from the whole purpose of this entry.
So going back to the other night, I seen the most ratchet-esque things in the club that made me feel old (Even though I know I'm quite far from it, thank you very much). I seen women in bra tops and skirts silently plotting on the next guy they wanted to buy them a drink, girls barely in clothes grinding on the floor at the drop of the "No Hands" beat, 20 inch weaves with glued fake eyelashes that look like black construction paper with slits in them, chicks throwing their legs in the air in dresses as they danced with guys in an inappropriate fashion, and an unendless crowd of people that looked like they chased their last tequila shot with their morals. It. Was. So. Bad. I couldn't understand this environment. What the hell was going on? I don't remember the club being like this. I didn't know whether I should leave or throw condoms out into the crowd (cuz they all look like they were one step away from a pregnancy scare). As I downed another drink, I decided to sit with my girls, observe the crowd, and just take in the comedy relief. I wish I could've wrapped the DJ up and grabbed the microphone to point out the following things.For one, ladies please don't go out in these streets in these risque outfits. ESPECIALLY if you don't have the body for it. Why the hell are you out here in lingerie and stilettos? Do you think that this is cute? What are you trying to prove? Do your friends love you? Because they didn't love you enough to think it's ok to let you leave the house like that. An outfit that is way too tight, got your thong peaking out, titties spilling out your dress, jeans that look like they are suffocating your unkempt abdomen, and dresses that reveal your cellulite-plagued legs will only gain you disrespect from the next dude. You got mad because he grabbed your chesticle while you were dancing? Its not right and I'm not defending him but, guess what? That's the message you are sending. Your outfit is not a reflection of your inner intentions but it is the first thing guys will see when you meet them. You carry yourself like a hoe, then you will be seen as a hoe. Point. Blank. So get off that high horse of "You're not gonna disrespect me because I'm a lady" if you walked out the house in 6-inch heels with aluminum foil wrapped around your hips and pasted to your chest as an outfit. Nope. Your mic has now been silenced. Be classy. Be sexy. DRESS FOR YOUR BODY TYPE. You have your goodies all out at the club that you don't even give him enough mental room to wonder. Get your pasties OUTTA here!!!
After convincing the DJ to give me a fake birthday shoutout (I like to do that alot) I bobbed and weaved through the crowd to get back to my seat and my custom drink. I was just amazed at how some chicks were losing their minds out here. One girl was in a dress grinding in a chair by herself to some song that came on and when a guy came in to fill her lonely dance partner void, she had her legs all up in the air, dress rising up, all that. It. Was. Just. Tacky. Ladies, please have some self respect. I don't care if you are drunk. That is NEVER an excuse. Liquor releases you're inner inhibitions. So, if you were hiding from everyone that you really were a hoe, its probably going to be revealed to the general public when you are under the influence. And guess what? THERE IS NO REASON TO PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE LIKE THAT (unless that was what you were shooting for). Are you desperate? Lonely? Low self-esteem? Going through sex withdrawal or some other made up ailment? Chances are you have answered "NO" to all of the above questions. There's dancing and there is one slow grind away from trying to get pregnant in the club. Understand the difference. All that extra-ness is highly unnecessary. Most of all, have fun ladies. Carry yourself better.
As I continued to repeat to myself in the club that "I'm not about this nightlife" with my eyes closed and clicking my gold glitter stilettos together in the spirit of drunkenness and in the hopes that things would change, the third thing I wanted to point out came to me as I grazed by a conversation. LAST BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, I need you women to STOP trying to find a man in the club. There are way too many things wrong with it. Here's just the top two reasons:
1. According to various and abundant male sources, guys aren't going to the club to find a wife. They are out there to choose, be chosen, and/or have a "happy ending" by the night. Now you over there can front and say, "I'm looking for a friend". Oh really? Think deeper into your motive and it will boil down to exactly the same thing "to choose, be chosen, or "get lucky". Stop complaining you can't find a decent man if the club is the only place you look, sweetie. I simply cannot trust the validity of your statement.
2. (Now this is my opinion) I see the club as a "hostile" environment. People are in rare form. You got dudes in suits, button-downs, expensive colognes, VIP, fresh cut. You have the ladies in perfectly crafted makeup schemes, stilettos, revealing dresses, fresh weaves and/or hairstyles. Everyone is a walking facade. Yes. Everyone. Because 9 times out of 10 you DO NOT look like that at 10a on a Tuesday morning at work. Save the smoke and mirrors. **screams into crowd** "YOU'RE NOT REAAALLLLL!!!"
When I got home that night, I felt like I needed to retire partying altogether. This is not what I remember. At. All. I used to come to the club to celebrate. To create laughs that will make me smile years from now. And dance, even if its by myself, in an environment other than my house (don't front like you didn't catch yourself in the house dancing at any point in time of your life. I KNOW YOU WERE IN THAT MIRROR TOO!). And what did I see throughout the night? Drunken struggle. Everywhere. We need to do better ya'll. I'm serious.
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