Clubbing

Okay, there was a group of us that went clubbing last night, and I feel like I should write about it while it's still fresh in my memory.  To prep for this, I do want to say that it was a group of Mormons, we stuck together, did those things which were right and left at a reasonable time.  Sometimes people say that no animals were injured in the making of this production, but in our case no souls were lost in the making of this blog post.

There were ten of us that went, six girls and four guys.  The girl who was showing us where to go had a club in mind, but when she found out that none of us had brought our passports with us she decided we'd better try somewhere else. (How was I to know that they only accept passports as valid ID to get in?  I thought they were more lenient with stuff like that because of the much lower drinking age.  That and I thought that maybe you only had to show ID at the bar as you were buying a drink [which I wasn't planning on doing] because that's the only time it would really matter, right?)

We then went to a different club and stood in line for about 20-30 minutes.  Don't worry, it wasn't boring- this little hobo man who was so completely soused that I've never seen the like was hanging out towards the front of the line in front of us.  He was kind of creating problems because he was staggering around, running into people and shouting while clutching his little bag of glass bottles to recycle.  A man tried to get rid of him by giving him a cigarette, but then he staggered into a woman and she tried to fight him.  Eventually the bouncers took notice. [Aside: Let me tell you about the bouncers.  They were these three HUGE black men.  I'm talking NFL big, and not the quarterback end of that spectrum.  I also got told that they usually are pimps, so they're kind of evil and without any form of compassion. After watching them, I believed it. They are known for "sticking" those who don't comply.  I never asked exactly what that meant. ]  First they pushed him down, but when he wouldn't stay down and kept crawling back towards the entrance two of them caught a hold of his arms and literally drug him across the street.  He was on his rear end the whole way, kind of cartoon style.  They didn't wait for traffic, so there was a moment that I honestly thought they might just be throwing him in front of a car, but they went clear over to the other side.  Once there they threatened him a good while and who knows what else.  Then they sauntered back.  The man followed.  After that we couldn't see what happened, but a few hours later when we walked back down that street we saw the bag of bottles he'd had, left abandoned.  It seemed a bit ominous.  I bet he just passed out somewhere, though.

When we got to the front of this thrilling line, we got turned away for not having a passport and so it was time to resort to grungier methods.  We went to a club that our leader knew to not ID anyone.

It was super dingy and trashed, but it was huge and offered lots of different stations for dancing depending on the type of music you wanted to hear.  We kept hopping between them for the next few hours.  Nothing really noteworthy happened while we were in the club per say, but I saw what the clubbing culture is like and lived to tell the tale.

When we got home we smelled of smoke, death and the Underworld.  It was so gross.  I'm actually surprised I didn't have an asthma attack in the club, the smoke was so thick. My eyes itched somethin' terrible, though.

Conclusion: I would never go clubbing again.  Never.  Blegh.  It also made me more excited to go swing dancing in the fall, because it's going to be the bomb!