In Da Club

The bachelorette party was a success!

After finding someone to carpool with (who had a Prius and drove us there and back and we had so much to talk about the radio never went on), I felt really good about taking the out of town trip.

The bride to be’s college friends are sweet, fun and hilarious ladies who I always enjoy seeing on the rare occasion. I realized it had been a really long time when many of them were engaged or married and had been single the last time I saw them.

The restaurant we went to kindly divided the check SEVENTEEN ways, which was basically the best thing ever because group dinners give me anxiety when it’s time to deal with the bill.

After dinner, the party moved to a bar that had dancing.

I can’t tell you the last time I went dancing. I always want to…er, what I want is to be in a room with just my friends dancing to all of our favorite songs and drinking and actually having “the best night ever”.

But as we ALL know, these nights do not actually exist. After all of the clubbing I did in my 20’s and early 30’s, a total of zero of those nights went down in history as awesome. Instead, the best I could muster was a good laugh or a “I can’t believe that happened”, but mostly in an embarrassing or ridiculous way.

In fact, I’ve talked to a few friends about wishing Rob Gordon’s “Dance Music For Old People” was an actual thing (you know, from “High Fidelity). We wanted to rent out a room and not let anyone under 30 in (except for our cool under 30 friends). IT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA.

Anyway, I was reminded of why these nights are always disappointing this past weekend. For one, it’s no fun being old. I felt like it was obvious this was “my night out away from the husband and kids”. Everyone looked like a teenager and even if they were twenty-two, same difference. Not that I was there to hit on anyone, but when these boys were born in 1994 (my freshman year in high school), it’s hard not to feel like a creep just being there. (Maybe like me you went to underage clubs where you had to be sixteen, and there were upper age limits [I think 25?], but this time you are the old weirdos hanging back and watching the action.)

Second, the DJ was horrible. And it’s not because he was playing new music only the kids would know about. He was just bad. He did not play good songs. There are so many good songs. So. Many. I would rather dance to Taylor Swift and Katy Perry then pretend I’m really into this dubstep version of “Come On Eileen”. If you’re the kind of DJ who is just going to play one whole track after another like a human playlist, get your act together. Though to his credit, I was only there for about 90 minutes tops.

Third, girls are the worst. I’m sorry, but they are. Men are terrible, but women? Women in clubs may as well be wild animals. It’s bad enough having to dodge erect penises trying to grind on your ass. But a group of girls who’ve decided they don’t like you and your group of girl friends are horrible. I wanted to shout to every one of them who purposely elbowed their way through us or tried to box us out of our space that we were DEFINITELY NOT TRYING TO HOOK UP ANY ONE OF THE DUDES there and the only reason we got up on a stage (that was not lit and at the very back of the bar) was to get out of the way since we recognized how large our party was. Why do we act like another woman is a personal affront to us?

It was a sad reminder that this is what it’s like out there sometimes, especially when you’re single and looking. I remember those days ten years ago when I’d put on some stupid outfit and ill fitting shoes, forgo a coat in winter and jam my ID, credit card, cash, phone and lipstick in the smallest purse I owned to go to some trendy bar hoping some guy would buy me a drink. Without fail, I’d come home alone and half (actually most) of the time cry myself to sleep.

One scan of the room and I wanted to pick up a megaphone and yell “Look around you ladies!!! Are these guys worth fighting for??? Lets all just dance and have fun and ignore these dudes because that would be way more memorable. Also, we can stop looking each other up and down as though we’re competing with one another. While we’re at it, lets buy our own drinks because we shouldn’t be here to talk to anyone anyway!”

I really just wanted to say “Hey, my friend is getting married and we’re out celebrating her because we love her. I’m sure you’ve been there. And if you haven’t, I know you care about your girl friends, so lets all be respectful and kind because peace and shit. Why does it have to be this way? Geez. Sigh. COME ON…”

And lastly, what is with all of the making out in public? Seriously? Was it always like this? GO HOME. You can accomplish so much more behind closed doors. No one wants to see you touching tongues.

Really though, can someone make this “Dance Party For Old People” a real thing? I would pay cover AND stand in line.



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