I said it's a guide, but it's really just my rant about clubbing. As you might know (or not care), I dislike going to clubs. I've been to club exactly thrice in my entire life. The third time was last week and this post is a rant about how my clubbing went.
First of all, let me clarify what I mean by clubbing. By clubbing, I didn't mean the act of repetitively beating someone with a club. What I mean is the act of paying ridiculous amount of money to enter a dimly-lit room to dance for a few hours to overly repetitive music in which you have to dress like you're going to a royal banquet or the bouncer will throw you out. That kind of clubbing.
Despite having gone clubbing twice previously and was greatly disappointed, I was still grasping at the minuscule chance of maybe, maybe, maaaaaaaybeeee I would have fun today, and prepared accordingly. I dabbed some perfume behind my ear just in case I would meet and hit a cute girl (not physically). Heck, I even prepared some killer pick-up line: Hi, my name is Kent. As in, Kent I buy you a drink? (I swear it's much better said than written).
Hey, I heard you were a wild one-- was the song that greeted me as soon as I got within an earshot of the club. In front of it, cigarette butts sparsely littered the ground. I went in and got my arm stamped by invisible ink, visible only when ultraviolet light shone upon it. I went in and oh my god, I'd never felt more clean-air-deprived in my entire life. Cigarette smoke raped my nose and I considered to breathe-in through my mouth only to realize it would kill me even faster. So I inhaled air just like drinking a bottle of water in a remote desert; just enough to survive, not abundantly.
While I said that I dislike clubbing, the activity itself really fascinated me. It allowed me to watch people, like, various kind of people converging to be a single species that EVERYONE had socially, silently agreed to be a cool and better species (compared to the rest of us who didn't go clubbing). Both sexes dressed like they Googled what clothes to wear to a club and they all clicked the first Google search link: Guys with hair waxed wore button-down shirts and khaki pants and dress shoes and overpriced watches. Girls with hair curled wore dresses and high heels, their face the very epitome of coloring books. One girl tried to hide her acnes by putting layer upon layer of foundation. While her ultimate goal of becoming attractive was achieved, I had to say that she was more attractive as a mosaic.
The lights in the club were continuously alternating between not-so-dark and dark-as-fuck, which ultimately led to the girls in the club furiously alternating between somewhat-cute and invisible.
You know how in middle school we were taught that two things with the exact same frequency will resonate? Turned out that loud-as-fuck noise also made EVERYFUCKINGTHING resonate. The music was blaring so loud it literally shook my diaphragm. Comfort and serenity was a unique concept in this place, foreign to the DJ and everyone else. The deafening music (which shook my colon as hard as it did my diaphragm) made me want to poop. Ugh.
I looked around and saw everyone around me started dancing and trying their best to have fun without stepping on others' feet. I spotted a girl who literally went from a meek "Yeah, the music is nice, but I don't really know how to dance," to "YEAH THIS IS MY JAM, BITCH. LET'S DANCE," just because the DJ changed the song to Party Rock Anthem. I caught myself thinking, Humans are fascinating. I looked around and realized that all the girls around me were very very monotonous and similar: TONS of makeup, wildly dancing with a drink on one hand, and a cellphone on the other hand as a counter-measure in case the song being played by the DJ was something they were not accustomed to.
And then I realized how stupid I was. Dabbing perfume behind my ears and preparing for the greatest pickup line and dressing up like a template were stupid because I wouldn't want to date a girl who went to club who were trying so hard to be cool anyway.
Bottom line: if you're a nerd, my advice if you're pondering whether or not you should go to club is this: don't. Paying to enter a dimly-lit room, shouting at the top of your lungs just to talk to your friend who is like 20cm away from you, and drinking over-priced alcoholic beverage? I'm sure you can think of better ways to spend your weekend.
