you are not a go-go boy
Last night, after a two-year hiatus, I ventured back to the club with a group of friends. Most things, including many of the people, haven't changed. Coming back at it after a couple years away, there are some things I observed last night.
- If you are fifteen years older than me, you really should reconsider whether or not it is appropriate to be dancing in a go-go cage.
- Along those lines, if your waist is twice the size of mine, you also ought to avoid the go-go cage.
- Should you feel inclined to strip down to your underwear to dance, you really, really need to take off the white socks. Please.
- I know that we all want to take off our shirt while at the club (because we all think we're sexy), but you really shouldn't if A) you could wax your back and have enough hair to make a wig for a cancer patient or if B) you have a sunken chest and a flabby stomach.
- The orange, sleeveless button-up, white Daisy Duke shorts, hiking boots, and calf-high white socks is a look that even Jessica Simpson couldn't pull off. And your Farah Fawcett shades truly don't help.
- Finally, and I know Eleka has blogged about this in the past, but I want to leave a note to the ladies. You are at a gay club. The go-go cages are for the eye candy. I'm not denying that you're cute, however, the cage is not your place. And I know that you're at the club with your best friend and his boyfriend. And I know that they're both quite pleasing to look at, especially without their shirts. But the rest of us would appreciate it if you would keep your lips off their naked chests.
4 comments:
I agree with all of your points, but my main question is, did you enjoy yourself? I'm currently on a coming-on-6-month hiatus from the clubs, mostly because the last few times I went I had such negative experiences—what with being fondled and ogled by the 50-year-olds, and ignored by the 25-year-olds—that I haven't been back.
Maybe I go to the wrong clubs, though.
Actually, I had a great time. I was there with a group of friends, and we were just there to have fun and dance.
I'm glad you had fun. The last time I was at the club was in November. My then-roommate told me he wanted to take me out to celebrate my birthday, but what he really meant was that he had set up a rendezvous with an online acquaintance, and intended to spend the night making out with him in a corner. So I ended up alone at the club, on my birthday, without the protective buffer of friends that I'm used to. This, to an introverted, socially phobic person like myself, is the very definition of Hell. To his credit, my roommate felt guilty about this, so periodically he'd float back over and push me into the arms of some guy or other. Thus the unwanted fondling/ogling/etc. It was such a horrific, traumatic experience that I still shudder when I think of going back.
All very, very, very good points.
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