I have come to realise that a lot of people force themselves to go out because they are young and it is the status quo way of having a “good time”… but when they do it, a good time is usually not had. When I was younger, an entire weekend “wasted” at home would be spent thinking and imagining all the shenanigans, dastardly deeds and wonderfully sinful things my age-mates were out there engaging in without me.
However, by the time I turned 24, I’d mutter “i should have stayed my ass at home” at least once during at least 80 percent of my nocturnal outings.
For one simple reason: At the ripe old age of 24 years, I had already done/experienced/seen it all.
Disclaimer: What you’re about to read is
not a poem just words I put together in short sentences arranged haphazardly to look like poetrya short explanation as to why I’d rather stay at home and sleep on most weekends than go clubbing.
Clubbing – by NV
A large man whose life is utterly meaningless between Sunday and Thursday,
now holds the keys to my very soul.
This meat popsicle of a bouncer and his ridiculous door policy
Letting 10 hot chicks for every 1 dude
So I pay my way in and immediately I am reminded:
Nothing that will happen in here is new to me.
At a table, I’ll be served with watered down alcohol,
cold food, and even colder stares for tips,
At the bar, I’ll lose my voice communicating my order
grab my overpriced drink and survey the land.
I’ll see the group of girls come in,
low tops, high skirts, everything hanging out,
making sure that they are the center of attention,
just to get free drinks for the night
the wallflowers blooming, the drunks weaving,
the freaks gyrating, the lovers rocking.
tough guys playing shy, shy guys playing the tough role,
both with the same goal, to take the girl home
I’ll see Security throw people out,
break up fights, cause a couple of fights, and have sex on the floor.
I’ll see the DJ get head while he’s spinning.
Go from super hero status to super zero status
with one song.
Dancehall to techno?
Looking around, I have to make sure I went to the right club.
The dance floor clears immediately.
I’ll see women I thought would never dress like that, dress like that
Breasts perked up, 6 inch heels, skirt with no panties,
ready to go… and get attention.
Women who love how they look in heels but hate how they feel
So they have big enough purses to carry a pair of flats.
I’ll see dudes ordering one drink after the other
they know its one more drink and they pass out,
and yet, they drink anyway.
I’ll see the jealous boyfriend letting his girl dress in a seductive way,
then get mad at EVERY dude in the club looking her way.
I’ll see dudes that have no rhythm, dancing like their life depended on it,
and the women who stick around only for the inevitable drink offer afterwards.
While I’m waiting in the queue to use the gents,
I’ll get puked on and if I’m lucky
the liquid splatter wont land anywhere on me
except my shoes, bits and chunks of food spewed on the floor
If not I’ll wait some more and probably get hit on,
I’ll finally walk in and find an unholy mess of puke and poo
Finish my business and threaten my bladder never to make me return
At dawn-ish, the closing lights come on,
I’ll survey all the damage around me.
The spilled beer, the mixing straws all over the floor,
the drunken stragglers squinting against the harshness of the lights,
the unfulfilled dreams, the broken promises,
the horror of it all…
Outside, I’ll see drunken ladies pulling their skirts up and down
in an eternal battle of tug of war,
drunk guys pleading to the cops to let them go,
cops trying to pull over all the cars with loud music.
And I’ll say with a straight face, I’m done with it all.
I’ve seen it all.
Anyways, good people of DR, I trust you all had a restful and enjoyable Easter break. Allow me to ask though, what’s the big deal with “going out” anyways? Define it how you will, but my question remains. Shouldnt we all reach a point when we stop and ask ourselves whether clubbing is really worth it? Isn’t saying adieu to the clubbing life an integral part of growing up? Or am I not allowed judge a person who is 40something and still insists on clubbing like a crazy teenager?