It’s 9.10 on a Sunday morning and despite taking a shower and brushing my teeth vigorously, my hands still feel a bit sticky and I have a minging taste in my mouth. Hello mild hangover, I was deffo ‘in da club’ last night, weren’t I?
Clubbing. I associate the word with Tenerife & Ibiza, that girls holiday at 17 that I never took. I pair the word with underage guys & gals hitting Mayhem in Southend back in the day with a borrowed ID (something I also never did because I was squeaky clean good girl). And most of all, when someone says clubbing I think sticky floors and that lady in the toilet that tries to sell you deodorant and mints. Girls in bathrooms that become your best pals for 1 night only. And sweat. Lots of sweat.
So about LN.
After a very civilised birthday meal at Chop Bloc in Chelmsford (all the steak & cocktails, so very adult), it transpired that we (the 30th birthday group) were on our way to an establishment called ‘Citizen’ to pull some shapes until 2.30am. I was like ‘okay wow, things have escalated pretty quickly but sure, I can go with this. I’m still hip and happenin’, right?’
And it was when we were queuing in front of a group of lads that looked around 15 with haircuts that I’d label ‘a bit silly’ that it suddenly dawned on me; I am now too old for this. The realisation continued to dawn on me throughout the three hours we spent in that smelly, dingy place with thumping music.
The reason that I, at the grand old age of 25, am too old for clubbing is…
1. Because I don’t like wearing my drink down my clothes & playing the game ‘bumper cars’ whilst I’m trying to get my groove on. If I was an aggressive little lady I might have socked about 50 people last night. Yep, pretty crowded over here and nope, don’t like it when you barge past me knocking my overpriced drink down my jeans. And FYI, I don’t wanna be that close to your sweaty arm/neck/face. YOU DISGUST ME. Soz.
2. Because I look at outfit choices & realise I should have shopped at Missguided. The first thought when I stepped in was;
‘DAM. Should have worn my thigh high boots with my slit front crop top and sequin knickers. What was I thinking? I have judged this night alllllll wrong‘.
I mean, I thought I was being pretty risque in my wrap over body that showed a weeny bit of cleavage. But in comparison to the other females in the joint I was practically in work wear. I felt like I’d got lost on the way to a business meeting and stumbled into the club by accident. Note to self; show more thigh/butt/boob next time. And have better brow game (‘F’ me some of the eyebrows in there last night were out of this world insane ridiculous).
3. Because the music sounds like one solid, never changing beat. Like hold up there DJ, how am I dancing to this? And where the heck did the words go? I spent the majority of the night side step shuffling to a series of beats and sounds, relishing even the smallest snippet of a song I knew.
4. Because the drink prices make me consider remortgaging my house & I’d rather spend a tenner on a pizza than a vodka lemonade TBH. Where are all these youngsters getting their dollar from? Here’s me contemplating whether I can afford cans of tuna steak at the grand price of £5 once a week and then there’s these 18 year olds downing £10 drinks all night long. I mean whatever they are doing for that extra cash, I want in.
5. Because I tried to make meaningful conversations before realising no one had a chance in hell of hearing me. Even the topics of my failed conversations told me we were too old to be in there: – ‘Hows your wife?’ ‘Hows the kids?’ Okay I’ll just shut up now and continue my side stepping dance moves in silence.
6. Because I didn’t even get flippin ID’ed. I mean that’s the real crux of it right there. The moment a bouncer stops eyeing you up suspiciously and waves you straight through, THATS when you know you’re waaaaay past all this tomfoolery.
Happy Sunday folks. I’m about to go hit up a milkshake bar and drown myself in lashings of dairy and cake. And all joking aside I actually did have an ace time last night, even if I do feel like I need to wash myself with bleach this morning.
See ya laters aligators.
(Remind me never to sign off like that again. Cringe)