Dancing is Forbidden
Or, at least, it seems to be sometimes. 9_9 Not many people know this, but I actually LOVE to go dancing. Not even just with an other person, but even by myself. I think it's a really fun way to be expressive with my body, and I'm told I'm pretty damn good at it.
Anyway, some friends and I went out to Irish Times a couple weeks ago. It's a shitty multi-level bar with a dance hall on the top two floors. One of my them, Andrew, had been promising me for a while that he would take me out to go dancing, and at long last he did. =3 He, his girlfriend, my friend Tristan and I showed up relatively early just to scope out the place and sit around until things started heating up. Little did we know that it would, at its best, lukewarm. :-(
While we hung out on the side and danced as much as and in the forms that we desired (most of us being at least mildly capable), the vast majority of the club goers with the BLESSED ACCEPTION of one break-dancing chick, were absolutely atrocious. The break dancer did a few tricks like the worm and the spinny-leg-thing, but after realizing that the floor was SOAKED in booze and that her nice shirt was drenched, she decided to call it a night. Everyone else either shuffled out of time to the beat from left to right, or committed some awful bastardization of the air-hump that reminded me more of a dying, land-bound fish on its last legs when it only has the energy to twitch occasionally. This, too, was done out of time with the music, and was frequently done without the company of another dancer, a circumstance for which the exact reason, of course, escapes even my ability to discern.
Meanwhile, the guy on their mini-stage (I don't know what you'd call him, really), seemed to be trying to get "the party started", and was failing miserably. Maybe it was because he was an obese, smelly turd trying to amass as many women next to him as possible, maybe it was because of his lack of knowledge on how to get a crowd riled up, or perhaps it was his doe-like eyes searching the audience as if they might help him figure out WHAT THE HELL HE WAS DOING, but for one reason or another, he was rather unsuccessful in getting anyone in the proper clubbing spirit.
This somehow, of course, did not stop people from grinding (poorly) up against each other or from at least partaking in the time-honored tradition of club-going culture, getting absolutely shit faced and trying to score. Some guy even had the gall to spill his drink on me (we're at a straight club, mind you) and then try to start a conversation. 9_9 COME ON, PEOPLE.
There were, fortunately, a few saving graces for the night. I did manage to at least have a good time dancing with my friends, for one. The DJ, mercifully, was rather competent and had some nice mixes lined up for us to rock out to. And, finally, perhaps even most importantly, I got practically cavity searched by the REALLY BIG bouncer guy in the front. ^.^ Now, this guy didn't even do a cursory search of any women, and he got VERY into searching me. Reaching into my pockets, not just patting, but rubbing up and down my sides, grabbing my ass (almost tenderly), and, of course, feeling my crotch for about 5 seconds are just a few of the highlights. A goddamn LAWYER would not be able to convince me that this guy was straight! XD He paused on the keys in my pocket for second at one point and asked "What's this?" I'm thinking next time I go (unlikely even just to make this joke), I'm going to put a condom in my pocket, and when he feels it and asks that question again, I'll simply reply "That's for you at the end of the night" and give him a sly wink. ;-)
Anyway, I have found that I definitely like dancing and such, but I'm going to need to find a better club next time. :-(
More from me later, for now, HAPPY SUPER CHOCOLATE DAY! :D
Anyway, some friends and I went out to Irish Times a couple weeks ago. It's a shitty multi-level bar with a dance hall on the top two floors. One of my them, Andrew, had been promising me for a while that he would take me out to go dancing, and at long last he did. =3 He, his girlfriend, my friend Tristan and I showed up relatively early just to scope out the place and sit around until things started heating up. Little did we know that it would, at its best, lukewarm. :-(
While we hung out on the side and danced as much as and in the forms that we desired (most of us being at least mildly capable), the vast majority of the club goers with the BLESSED ACCEPTION of one break-dancing chick, were absolutely atrocious. The break dancer did a few tricks like the worm and the spinny-leg-thing, but after realizing that the floor was SOAKED in booze and that her nice shirt was drenched, she decided to call it a night. Everyone else either shuffled out of time to the beat from left to right, or committed some awful bastardization of the air-hump that reminded me more of a dying, land-bound fish on its last legs when it only has the energy to twitch occasionally. This, too, was done out of time with the music, and was frequently done without the company of another dancer, a circumstance for which the exact reason, of course, escapes even my ability to discern.
Meanwhile, the guy on their mini-stage (I don't know what you'd call him, really), seemed to be trying to get "the party started", and was failing miserably. Maybe it was because he was an obese, smelly turd trying to amass as many women next to him as possible, maybe it was because of his lack of knowledge on how to get a crowd riled up, or perhaps it was his doe-like eyes searching the audience as if they might help him figure out WHAT THE HELL HE WAS DOING, but for one reason or another, he was rather unsuccessful in getting anyone in the proper clubbing spirit.
This somehow, of course, did not stop people from grinding (poorly) up against each other or from at least partaking in the time-honored tradition of club-going culture, getting absolutely shit faced and trying to score. Some guy even had the gall to spill his drink on me (we're at a straight club, mind you) and then try to start a conversation. 9_9 COME ON, PEOPLE.
There were, fortunately, a few saving graces for the night. I did manage to at least have a good time dancing with my friends, for one. The DJ, mercifully, was rather competent and had some nice mixes lined up for us to rock out to. And, finally, perhaps even most importantly, I got practically cavity searched by the REALLY BIG bouncer guy in the front. ^.^ Now, this guy didn't even do a cursory search of any women, and he got VERY into searching me. Reaching into my pockets, not just patting, but rubbing up and down my sides, grabbing my ass (almost tenderly), and, of course, feeling my crotch for about 5 seconds are just a few of the highlights. A goddamn LAWYER would not be able to convince me that this guy was straight! XD He paused on the keys in my pocket for second at one point and asked "What's this?" I'm thinking next time I go (unlikely even just to make this joke), I'm going to put a condom in my pocket, and when he feels it and asks that question again, I'll simply reply "That's for you at the end of the night" and give him a sly wink. ;-)
Anyway, I have found that I definitely like dancing and such, but I'm going to need to find a better club next time. :-(
More from me later, for now, HAPPY SUPER CHOCOLATE DAY! :D