7/18/08 Night on the Town Subtitle: demographics of a Club

Captain’s Log. Just kidding. Ok so the Mayor calls us up and tells us to come down to the club he owns and everything will be taken care of. So we figured why not? Jaime and I wanted to gather up a posse so we could roll deep and realized we had no posse. Bummer. I miss my friends. Now, in general, I’m not a club girl. There’s no fun in some nasty dude rubbing his pelvis all over you. It’s even less fun when you’re a dancer and you want everyone to move out the way when a certain song comes on so you can show off your moves. And by habit you find yourself snapping to catch the beat or saying 5, 6, 7, 8. Can you say loser? What is especially fun is to go and watch people. The dancing especially. Especially especially the dancing of clear* people. Clear people have a special rhythm and dance to a beat no one else can hear. So the majority of this blog is dedicated to what I observed that night at this club.

First let me take a moment to say that the club was beautiful and phenomenal. I’ll leave the name out as we cannot compromise the identity of the Mayor. It was cool because we didn’t have to wait in line and got to sit in a special section with red couches. Is this how famous people get treated? When I told the Mayor that the dj was terrible, he escorted me to the booth and I told them what I would like to hear and within ten minutes they had switched out djs. That was pretty awesome.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program. The demographics of a club. Every city, state, etc has its own culture. For instance, my block looks like it would be handpicked for a scene with Prince Akeem from Coming to America. All times of day and night it is like a party. Everyone is dressed up in their native garb from head to toe. Babies are carried on backs of mothers supported by nothing but material. They sing, dance and party. That’s the demographic of my block.

Clubs are no different.

For instance, you always have that one creepy guy who is just way too old to be in the club. You can spot him because he gives you a creepy feeling. He doesn’t dance. He just stands on the dance floor and stares. Every time you look up he seems to be closer to you and just appears to be everywhere. If you’re quiet I’m sure you can hear the music from the movie Psycho because that’s what he looks like.

Next, you always have that couple that forgot the club is a public place and not their Motel 6 room. So, they expose everyone in the place to their overly sexualized moves. Everyone at some point in time stops and stares with a dumbfounded look on their face. Go home
Oh and why do you get people who would never say the “N” word (to be politically correct) yell it out on every song and say it extra loud like it validates the fact that they’re cool. It reminds me of that scene from white chicks where because no one is around they start rapping the words and yelling the “N” word. Hilarious.

Then there’s the person who decides that over the deafening noise of the music they’re going to tell you their life story as if you care. These two Asian girls were hilarious. We could hardly understand a word they said because their English was terrible, but they wanted to tell us about their lives.

And isn’t there always the clear guy who is so excited that he gets to use his new move on the first black girl he sees? That night I was that girl. I’m sure that where moves like the sprinkler, the q tip and that move where you grab your leg and put your hand behind your head originated. Tonight was no different. It looked like he was doing some version of the C Walk but I’m not sure. Then he wants to take a picture with you to prove he knows a black person. Just like that I became his token black friend. By the way, I checked my sources and no black girls were harmed in the creation of those crazy dance moves past and present.

Wait. There’s always that one guy who is really good dancer. I don’t mean two stepping. No this guy is multi-talented. He can salsa, do hip hop, whatever. He looks good, he smells good and he draws you in. He is a dancer’s dream because you know he won’t be inappropriate with you. He just wants to dance. No funny stuff. But as he gets closer you notice he dances a little too well. He is dressed a little too nice. He knows the words to every song even Britney Spears. And you begin to wonder if he plays the tambourine or likes a little boy on boy action. Wait, did he just break his wrist? Oh no!!! Another one bites the dust. Dang!

Ok another commercial break. Did you know there’s this song out in Spanish to the tune of Father Abraham? And they played it in the club. Yes they did. So you know what we had to do? That’s right. Right arm, left arm, right foot, left foot. Ha ha. We definitely needed to be in a bible study not a club.

Two more things. Why does there have to be like five Kim Kardashian look alikes arguing about whose skirt is the shortest. Oh and “clear” is my mom’s term for anglo-saxons. So that’s what I meant by the clear guy. I’m out!!!