Jul 15, 2009

Saturday Night Fever

Let's be honest... Everyone deserves to let off some steam after a long week at the 9-to-5. If only for a couple of hours once a week, people should be able to unwind with a friends and a few drinks so that their stress and obligations can be put on hold. Perhaps within the context of this leisure activity one can allow himself to be more open to possibilities: less-than-intellectual conversation, crude jokes, nostalgic music, and maybe even getting to know the person occupying the next stool. Romance does not have to be on the evening's agenda but if such an opportunity presents itself then why not throw caution into the wind? It all seems like such a casual event but do not be so quickly deceived.

Someone once wrote in an online article on the benefits of going out that, "Clubbing is what separates the men from the boys. You’re either one of the guys dancing with women on the floor, or you’re on the sideline with your Corona watching him. It’s difficult, but definitely possible." I would recommend that the only kind of "clubbing" this author experiences intimately be the business-end of the type endured by baby seals in the infamous Northern pastime. Apologies aside, square-toed shoes and extra-large barely-buttoned dress shirts purloined from a Mervyn's outlet paired with an overpriced Miller 64 hardly separate the "men" from anything other than their common senses and their cash from their wallets. I will just skip all together the part about the vomit-inducing "music" coming from a DJ whose tastes include whatever he can lick out of Ryan Seacrest's anus that week. One of the core issues that should bare the most importance is the thought of the club as a meat market where somehow one will distinguish oneself from one's carbon-copy clone brethren enough so that the night's prey takes notice or is danced with long enough, or be made drunk enough, to be left distracted and lower its defenses. And this is the "norm," this is the strategy, this is the natural game plan that goes unquestioned and undeterred.

It's embarrassing. Either you're too stupid to realize that it's loud, out-dated, pay-to-play live version of "Hot or Not" or you're too shallow to even care. Or maybe you're not that interesting in conversation outside of mouthing enough syllables to ask if she'd like another drink so you let your Al Gore-like dancing and roofie coladas do the talking for you. If it's a bit of fun and companionship you're after then find a place with a bottom line that is just that instead of waiting in a long line to pay $20 for the chance to play in their sandbox. Go have a good time but skip the douchebaggery of lousy club drinks, creepy dudes complaining about the sword fight they've unknowingly created themselves, and the person whose life ambition is pressing "Next" on her iPod while sitting behind the speakers. Fuck, you do so much better than that.


  1. The writing was and always is excellent, but the use of "roofie coladas" made me a fan for life! HILARIOUS...

  2. Wait wait wait...so my striped Express button down and my Hyper distressed loose fit stone washed jeans aren't cool?

    FUCK. What's next my blow out spike haircut and my Miller Chill?