SIDENOTE: Is that really how they get down in the West Indies? All the West Indians I've EVER met in my whole life (and I only started to meet them when I moved to the Northeast, 'cause Austin only have Blacks, Whites and Mexicans) have cared more about fashion and their outer appearance than the average fashion designer, so what was that dude doing looking like he just got done playing a pickup game of basketball?
Anyway, when we finally got her down, needless to say she was a bit flustered and that got the Twilight Zone that was this club off to a fitting start. Next, she taps me on the shoulder and says discreetly, "Is that a genie behind you?" I turn around to see a man of ambiguous race wearing loose linen pants, a loose button down long-sleeved shirt and a brown vest, twirling around with great majesty and grace, doing his best impersonation of a male belly dancer. He actually looked more like Aladdin, but that didn't stop me from laughing with gusto and confusing the group of men sitting next to me.
SIDENOTE: I hate to say it this way, but what's going on with men today? You have a dark room, pumping music, hot men, scantily clad women and alcohol, and rather than make a move, you want to ride the wall as if you ENJOY spending $20, getting all dressed up and piling all your 50-11 boys into your 2004 Ford Focus just to watch OTHER people dance. Please tell me how this makes sense because I'm at a loss.
To the left of "Aladdin", we see another dude who's content to make his own party, dancing with the enthusiasm of someone dancing home alone, and grabbing every girl who makes the mistake of standing too close to him. A couple of time my friend and I let him take us for a spin, just because we got tired of waiting for the non-crazy men to approach.
Despite the lack of dancing, it was quite stifling, and just to add to the craziness that was that club, on the way to the bathroom for a touch up, I run into the best friend of my ex with whom I'm amidst legal proceedings. He sees me, says hi and goes on his way as if everything's peachy, but I, of course, am thrown off for a good ten minutes worrying if he's only PRETENDING that everything is cool when really he's waiting to shank me while hidden amongst the crowded club.
I keep one eye out the rest of the evening, but my friend and I stay anyway, because we want to get the most out of our $10. This was a bit unfortunate because I've been to better parties in the basements of dirty frat houses in college (hence the 2003 reference). They actually played R. Kelly's "Bump n' Grind", just to add to the nostalgia.
Closing time (4am) came just as we were ready to get the heck out of there and perhaps call it a night. My friend, however, had been getting texts from one of her many suitors asking if we wanted to come hang. At a 7:2 guy to girl ratio, meeting them at the club to hang wasn't possible, but over 85 carefully thought out texts, they conveyed that they wanted the two of us to meet the main guy and his friend to "listen to music" (aka FOOL AROUND) out in Canarsie. I know "listen to music" is code for several reasons:
- It always has been, from the beginning of time, just like "Do you wanna grab a cup of coffee?" does.
- It was 4am.
- Before I was invited to come along, my friend had to send my pic from her phone for their approval.
While we were firming up the details, we went by the McD's in the Village to refuel and were accosted by two Dominican dudes who wanted us to go home with them instead. I'm not sure whether they were brothers or just good friends, but one of the guys basically sat down with us (although we were actually only PERCHING on the edge of the booth seats, as that particular McD's is covered with chlamydia) and proceeded to tell us how he was on the Subway diet and his boy had a body girls go crazy over ("No homo", he repeated, WAY more times than necessary). Then the other guy, while he was on the phone, proceeded to reach into my girlfriend's fries (without permission or shame) and just eat them, as if this was some sort of potluck and our fries were the contribution. Ummmm, NO!
So we left and finished finalizing out plans on a busy corner with a bunch of other people coming off their club highs. And yes, I do notice that I'm mentioning many things that were occurring while we were firming up our post-club plans, and that's because the dudes we were working with were taking FOREVER. In the meantime, we were acting a fool and some other guys (quite cute, in my opinion) started laughing at/with us about the whole situation and flirting. With a little prompting from my friend, I flirted back and we started talking to them while the other dudes got it together and came to pick us up (heck no we weren't going to take ANOTHER cab just to meet them to drive us to Brooklyn).
When the plans with the other dudes were finally firm, we asked the new dudes if they would walk us to meet them, just in case we decided we didn't want to go, and we could chill with them instead. They weren't doing anything, so they agreed and we chatted and laughed all the way to the corner to meet the other guys.
The other guys were waiting for us in the car but, because they'd taken so long to make the plans, we kept them waiting for a bit. By a bit I mean, like, THREE MINUTES after they said it was indeed them in the car. After only three minutes of lollygagging and no calls or texts from the dudes telling us to hurry up and get in the car, they simply sped off into the night without us.
Ain't that a bitch?! So now my friend is having an angry phone call with the dudes who were pissed they saw us talking to other dudes (even though they didn't even KNOW me and none of the dudes claimed my friend either) and I'm openly flirting with both of the new dudes who turned out to be brothers. Once they heard how pissed we were to lose a ride home, they mentioned they had actually had a car and could give us a ride.
Praise Jesus! Sure, it probably isn't the BEST idea to take rides from complete strangers at like 5am with no clue whether they're fit to drive or whether they may, in fact, drive us to an abandoned truck yard and murder us with NYC rats eating all the evidence...but we were already in "adventure" mode, so we said sure.
And actually they turned out to be really cool guys. They plays "classics" for us (including "Ice Ice, Baby" and "Hammer Time"), joked around the whole time, and they were Lakers fans. One of the brothers took our numbers and texted me after they dropped us off. I thought that'd be the beginning of a little back and forth, but it stopped around 6:30am and I haven't heard from him since. C'est la vie. It was still a lovely and quite memorable night.
Anyway, that's why it was impossible for me to blog: I was recovering. If you can believe it, we went out again on Monday, lol. I think these New New Yorkers are infecting me with their enthusiasm for the city. That's fine by me!
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