No, I don’t feel bad.
No, I shouldn’t feel bad. I mean why should I?
A couple of friends wanted to go out tonight (Saturday) and go “clubbing”. I declined.
It’s mid-late Autumn, with temperatures frequently dipping down to around 5° C at night. There’s no way in hell I’m prancing around town in a dress so short, one can see the color of my panties without needing to bend over, with a thin 10 denier pantyhose and probably a thin cardigan.1 That outfit does NOT protect me from 5° C.
Hell, it doesn’t even protect me from sleazy men! Maybe if it was around summer, I might accept the offer, but at this time??? Does the word “cold” even register in your dictionary?
And I’ll be honest with myself here, I hate going out clubbing. I’ve got to suffer the cold to go out. I’ve got to pay through my nose for bartenders who try to pass off some other cocktail for a Long Island Iced Tea and on top of that! It’s not as if I’ll meet new people because all the girls just want to band together! In any case, by 1AM or…2 AM (I’ll be optimistic), everyone is just about plastered, or IS plastered and can be found in the nearest alleyway, puking their guts out. Not a pretty sight, ladies.
I’m 21, and…I think I’ve done my clubbing. I’ve done my partying. I just want a decent guy to settle down with.
1 = I have much more tack than that, but you get the picture, right?
First posted at Teacup.