7 Reasons To Avoid Nightclubs.
Women like this love it when you tell them about your blog ranking on Technorati.
Call me a big fat nerd but I–
Actually, don’t call me that. I’ll shatter emotionally.
Quickly, here are 7 reasons why I can’t stand clubs.
Reasons Why Clubs Are Just Absolutely Horrible.
Reason 1: The Line Up.
The line is filled with girls glittered up and guys wearing leather jackets. Why does every guy look exactly the same? Thankfully, I am set apart with my doughy face and detailed eyebrows. The Line Up is key because nobody believes they belong in it. If you wait in line, you’re not cool. To who? I’m not sure. Probably to the other people who are waiting in line who you think are not cool. We must impress them. So then we begin to suddenly know somebody who can get us in. Chatter, as follows: “Ask the bouncer if Mikey’s working, he’ll get us in.” “Tell them you’re with Sarah plus 10” “This is Joey’s place man, he’s the head promoter, he’ll get us in.”
Truth is, Mikey was fired, Sarah’s passed out on a toilet at home, and there is no Joey. You just made that up.
Wait in line.
Reason 2: The Girls Who Never Have To Wait In Line.
There’s this faction of women in this world that anchor their pride in this one fundamental belief:
I never wait in line at clubs.
When you meet them, they will immediately inform you of this fact. Wait in line? Me? Fuck that. Do you know who I am? The answer to that question is really just their name. Look. They even do it at job interviews.
Well, Sarah, thank you for applying to become the Chief Budget Analyst at Royal Bank, let’s get started, shall we?
Okay, fun!
Let’s start with what you think your key strengths are, Sarah.
Okay, you know at Lot? I know the owner so me and my girls literally walk in. Mink? I dated the head bouncer, so they don’t even check. I can totally get you in, just text me and I’ll text him, kay? Circa is nothing, they know us. We’re in like thirteen of their promo pictures on their website. They kind of owe me but my friend Tony, he told—
I think I lost you. You applied to be the Chief Budget Analyst right?
You know what I’m craving right now? Like one of those fun peach bellinis! Wanna go for one?
It’s 820am, Sarah.
Going to the bathroom is an event at a club. Hundreds of people seem to need to pee at the exact same time I want to. Also, I am privy to the most inane conversation in the history of the universe.
“Dude, Sarah actually looks hot tonight. Did you see that ass? Mikey, you should deal that.”
“Dude I’ve dealt it like nine times already.”
“Fuck you, no way. When? You lie.”
“No man seriously. It’s true. She totally wants me.”
Then several young men deconstruct Mikey’s claim as to how he ‘dealt Sarah’ until Mikey finally exhausts all of his weak supporting arguments and runs away from the bathroom crying, flailing his arms wildly in the air. Then, while washing my hands, I get to see several young men try to fix their eleven hairs on their head, each spiked up individually. When they have completed, they look exactly the same.
Gel doesn’t fix ugly.
Reason 5: You’re just too old.
If you’re thirty-five and you go to clubs every night, I think that’s cool. Nothing is more appealing than someone who knows what’s hot on a Tuesday night. And also, we enjoy when you tell us what the club was called in 1989 when you first went. It’s like a fun history lesson!
Reason 6: Eating shit food after the club.
Actually, I have nothing against this. I weigh a staggering one hundred and seventy-five pounds and at several points in my life, I have teetered on the brink of obesity. Eating is absolutely tremendous.
Reason 7: People who can actually dance.
I can’t really dance. Much like my poor swimming ability, I can’t dance. I bop my head up and down to the beat of Biggie sometimes and throw one or perhaps both of my hands up in the air, creating the fascinating facade of me actually dancing. But this is all an illusion. It kind of works until some dude named Hugo comes along and salsas it up with everyone while I unravel on the inside. Who names a kid Hugo anyway? Ass.
I already know the comments that will arrive.
Tremendous News, you’re just lame and clubs are for cool people.
You’re just nerdy and sleep at 10pm, that’s why you’re bitter.
You’re so judgemental!
Each of those is hurtful in its own way. I am definitely nerdy and sleep early but labelling me ‘lame’ is entirely infactual. Over the last few weeks, I’ve dined at delightful restaurants, screened a variety of films and met friends at a host of pubs. I also rocked charades, arguably the most tremendous game on the planet. See? Far from lame. Also, being judgemental is a good quality. Don’t believe me? E-mail Antonin Gregory Scalia, the second most senior Justice of the Supreme Court right now and show him this article. I dare you. I already know what his response will be.
Dude,
Tremendous News! is totally right on the club thing. And being judgemental got me to where I am right now. I’m a Supreme Court Justice, bitch! I’m the most judgementalist dude out there. Keep your shit tight, and thanks for the message.
a.g.s.
PS. There’s no way in hell Mikey dealt Sarah.
I'm betting she waited in line.
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