Life in the Middle Lane

I’m serious.  Several questions: Did weirdo aliens take over Raleigh? Have club behavioral norms changed? Am I just that dang sexy?

This weekend I when out with my girls on Friday and Saturday night.  It was the Shake Yo @ss weekend. The SYA weekend is something that goes down every few weeks.  I use it to make sure that:

1. I get some exercise in

2. I get to see my friends

3. I get to party like a rock star with my entourage

So, in celebration of the SYA weekend, I went to a First Friday International Dance party, ’cause I love brown people. It was an interesting mix of people. In Chapel Hill international must mean “being of latin american decent.”  With a few Asians and Morrocan people sprinkled in.  The party was fun.  Mostly.

Let me explain.

I object to the musical selections.

There was a tropical music room. (Love it.) There was a salsa music room.( Eh. All couple dances) There was a hip hop room. (Eh. Lame) There was something missing. Something Important.

They didn’t play any reggaeton! WTF? How you gonna throw a latin american party without reggaeton?  How do you play American rap (and bad rap, at that) and not play some hip hop that originated in spanish/hispanic/latin locations.  I mean, Reggaeton is in Spanish!  I was a little pissy about that omission.

On Saturday, I hung out in Raleigh because my girls and I wanted something more upscale and GROWN. It was off. It was sooo weird!

First, it must have been scanky stripperella night and no one told us. I saw too much unrequested ass.  I mean, women with their thongs out, with their booty cheeks getting cold in the air.  Basically looking a hot ass mess.

In one club I walked in the first thing I saw was a woman bend over backwards with her dress around her neck, and her forest green thong pressed into a man.  I remember thinking, where the hell am I? Did I wander into an alternative club? No one else in the club was dancing, they were too busy gawking.

And that was a lot of what was happening on Saturday, folks (myself included) gawking at women giving table dances/ peep shows to everyone in the club.  And I didn’t even GO to a strip club.

D*mn.  And the men have been worse than the women.

Something has been wrong with all the men that I’ve danced with all weekend.  I feel used.  I feel like a masterbatory tool.  None of the men all weekend wanted to dance, at least not in the sense that I ususally dance. They just wanted to use my body to help them get off.  And that is gross.  And sooo not my style.

With every guy I danced with all weekend, I had to run away, wipe myself off, and tell them I was too tired to dance because I was too embarassed to tell the truth.  I should have said, “I’m sorry, I can’t dance with you anymore.  I’m worried that I might get pregnant from the activities that your body is doing in proximity to my body. I must step away from you now. Goodbye.”  Ew. Gross.

I HATE being ground on.  That is not dancing! I am not into having love in the club.

And I blame women for letting men think it is ok to behave that way. Shame on you, bitches! I hate you.

What happened to all the normal people that usually populate Glenwood Ave clubs? I beg you, please come back, normal people!!!  The clubs were full of lames, weirdoes and ugly people.  I felt incredibly out of place.  Like all the cool people left me a voicemail that we were hanging out somewhere else, and I just forgot to check it. (next time guys, send me a text)

Lessons for everyone: Do not ruin Shake Yo @ss weekend for me ever again. Clubs, always play reggaeton. Men, no peni on me, ever. And women, keep your f-ing clothes on, unless you are getting paid to take them off.  Have some mystery about yourself, dammit. And if the Lame-os are taking over the clubs, someone tell me so I can stay home that weekend.