I went clubbing on Saturday night with a few of my mates at Billboard. Basically, clubs are a mass gathering and the 'celebration' of the wastage of so much human potential.Young people, with really bad dancing, attention-seekers trying to fit into the 'cool' bracket, girls with outfits that one of my ex-colleagues term 'half of her moon is showing', and guys looking for a free fuck.
Loud, blaring music. Cool, hip people. Outrageous dress sense. And, some of the rare few with So You Think You Can Dance? worthy dance moves.It amazes me how my friends who are all great dancers, can dance for more than three hours without stopping. Vic, who is from Russia, got onto the tabletop and danced continuously for three hours straight, no breaks in between.
This guy, with piercings all over his face, asked me to take a picture of him in this body-builder posture. Here are his 5 seconds worth of fame in this humble blog of mine.
This couple (OR RANDOM STRANGERS, I REALLY HAVE NO IDEA) were engaged in some sort of dirty dancing. Dance, kiss, separate, dance, kiss, separate, guy walks off, friend joins girl, and then both get back together again. Repeat above.
Halfway, I caught one of my friends chatting with a very decent-looking Malay guy. Initially, I assumed that they knew each other. But, then something about my friend's demeanour, triggered off alarm bells ringing within me. Something inside me snapped and I just knew something wasn't right. My instincts were later proven correct.
This Malay dude proceeded to whisper something in my friend's ear. Again and again. While my friend listened intently. "Do you know him?" I wanted to ask, but the blaring music made any sort of hearing nearly impossible.
My friend, clearly drunk, would later confess that she couldn't hear a word the dude was saying. I guess the dude took my friend's drunken disposition as silent acquiescence, for the next thing I knew, he had a firm grip on my friend and was dragging her across the dancefloor. Hand on heart, I didn't want to intrude, especially if the both of them knew each other. With a million questions racing through my head, my feet did the thinking for me. My steps quickened with each beat of the music, as I whizzed past the dancefloors, the table tops, to come to the bar.
Now, the Malay dude was talking to my friend again. But, in a split of a second, all the dynamics shifted. He pressed my friend against the wall, his body against her, and he was kissing my friend on the lips. My friend said, 'No', but the guy persisted. It was clear enough that he wanted to bring her home. Confused, shocked and disconcerted, I found myself reaching for my friend, pulling her away from the guy, turning on my heels and walking away. My head was reeling from all the shock and the mystifying turn of events.
These guys are so cheap. They go to clubs, pay a cover charge of 15, and scan the dancefloors for a free shag. Suddenly, I find that guys who pay for prostitutes are waayyyy classier. So, when my friend T told me: "If you dance, you get to meet some really nice guys," I shot him back with, "If you dance, you get to meet all the wrong sort of guys."
The night was called to an abrupt stop when all the lights went up, the music went dead, and the security guards started chasing everyone out. I checked my watch. 3.10.
When it was time to leave, we caught M scribbling his number on some Asian chick's hand. Apparently, the chick wanted his number, and he said, 'No', but he could give her his number instead. What's the attraction factor that Asian girls have towards Aussie guys? The exoticness that allures them to something unknown, tantalizing, fascinating, strange and the very unfamiliar?
After a couple of drinks....
S: "Cheryl, I swear, you are my best Uni friend ever!"
C: "Er....okay. Right.....but I've only known you for a while..."
S: "NO! That's not true! I've known you for TWO weeks."
I SWEAR drunk people have no idea what they are talking about.
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