It was sweaty. It was dark. Tongues were flying everywhere around me. My friends were even getting into the action. An obscene amount of alcohol was consumed and yet, I thankfully remained sober through the whole ordeal. I can now officially say that I am no longer a clubbing virgin.
Even the word alone brings back the smutty and nightmarish memories that have permanently lodged themselves in my "Never Try Again" files. Club. Ew. Starting off, the night was going smoothly. I was having fun and dancing with The Girls (for the future, when I refer to The Girls, I am referring to my friends Chelsea, Emily, Shweta, and Saad who is the only male), and then out of nowhere, the night just started to go downhill. It was like I was a revolving door for loser after loser (I'm starting to sound like such a hostile bitch!).
How do you politely decline to dance with someone when you can't even hear yourself think? It was impossible for me to turn to any creeper and say, "I'm sorry, but I'd rather not have you come up behind me and start grinding your dick on my ass." Now, I'm not complaining about the volume of the music - just the fact that it was impossible to tell a guy no. I was forced to yank myself away multiple times and cling to a combination of different friends the whole night. At one point, it was like that one memorable scene from the Matrix when Neo dodges the bullets, but one still hits him. I kept dodging tongues and grinding when all of a sudden a guy the same height as me (and that's pretty short considering I'm 5'2") launches himself on me. All I could think was "Aahh! Aahh. Get away and stop giving me a goofy grin!"
Since I'm never going back again, I feel obliged to warn the ladies of Toronto that Suite 106/Wetbar is filled with unattractive, STI-loaded sketchbags. Actually, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that most - if not, all - clubs are filled with unattractive sketchbags. Why? Because that's not where the decent guys hang out. It's where the following males spend a Friday or Saturday:
1) Sleezy ginos (I'm allowed to call them sleezy. I'm Italian)
2) Guys who barely speak English
3) Guys who have dishonorable intentions (REALLY? At a club?!)
I think I'll stick with my quiet lounges, cocktail bars and noisier (but more comfortable) sports bars. I enjoy conversation more than receiving unwanted attention. Plus, there's something about $4 drinks that just doesn't shout "classy" to me.
*Note to all guys: When you jump a girl from behind and she looks at you then walks away, it means she doesn't want to dance with you. To avoid future embarrassment, don't keep asking her for a dance. It's an innocent dance - I know - but she doesn't want your nether regions anywhere near hers (even if two layers of clothing are seperating them).
** Note to all ladies: If you're only going to a club to get free drinks and to take advantage of innocent, horny males then shame on you! Unless you honestly like the guy, don't be a cheapass.
