It was a Wednesday, which happens to be “college
night” at one of the popular clubs in Atlanta. The semester was over and after a long week of job hunting, my best
friend, Zöe and I decided that we deserved a night out.
We say that we want to go out all the time, but when the
time actually comes to do it, we end up making up excuses and decide that it’s just too much effort to actually get
ready and drive all the way there, so we end up just going
to sleep. Other times, we have gotten ready with a full face
of makeup, hair done, dress, heels, all of the works, drove
all the way to the club, paid to park and then decided
that the line was too long and we weren’t actually feeling
it that night. I am embarrassed to admit that is literally
something I have done. That’s usually how most things in
my life tend to pan out, but that is not what we were going to do on this night.
We promised ourselves that we would go out and
let loose and have fun, which is
something we had been lacking
in our lives. We went all out; we
did our makeup complete with a
smokey eye, I curled my hair, put
on my “club” dress and Jeffrey
Campbell knock offs, walked the
long distance from our dorm to
the car, which believe it or not
is usually a challenge for us, and
drove 20 minutes to the club in
Atlanta. We pulled into the small
parking lot directly next to the
club only to find it full and a
glimpse at the line to get in. The
line wrapped around the building into the parking lot. I was
ready to back out right then, but
we had promised that we would
actually make it in the door this
time, so we went to another
parking lot a few blocks away
and walked to the club only to be
greeted by the massive line that we would have to stand
in while wearing 5 inch heels. I have the patience of a five
year old in a grocery store. This is a flaw of mine that I am
very aware of, but I just hate waiting for anything and everything. The line for this club was no exception. On top
of having to wait, we both suddenly had to pee and the
only bathroom we had access to was the one inside of the
club
Waiting got progressively worse as we stood with
what looked like no end in sight. I wasn’t even in the
mood to dance anymore. I just wanted to pee. As the
line moved, people left and we got closer and closer to
the door. As we were approaching the place to pay, a girl
came up and offered us a deal the club was having that
would get us in for $5 cheaper and then free all summer.
I am not one to pass up a good bargain, so we agreed not
knowing that we would just have to wait in another line.
I was beginning to develop one of those pee cramps that
only come when you’ve held it in for way too long. After
waiting in another line for what seemed like eternity, we
finally made it into the club. The first thing that was in the
obscure side door we were sent to was a bathroom and I
have never been so happy to see a disgusting club toilet in
my life. Once I had relived my pee cramp, I still wasn’t really in the clubby mood, but I had been through too much
to leave now, so we went upstairs to the dance floor. There
was a pole in the middle of the room, which wasn’t there
the last time I had been there. A girl that I recognized
from the line outside was working that pole like it was her
job, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. We awkwardly made our
way to the middle of the dance floor and I found myself
surrounded by girls moving their butts in ways I can only
dream of maneuvering. We literally just stood there. I’m
not sure why I couldn’t bring myself to even sway. I wasn’t
in the mood to get hit on by random guys and was about
to tell Zöe that we should move
to the side when, as if on cue, a
guy comes up behind me and just
starts dancing. Then, when I turn
around and say no, he gets offended. I don’t understand why guys
think this is okay. After I just said,
“no”, he countered with, “Why did
you come to the club, then!?” As
if the only reason I would go to a
club is for random guys to grind
on me without my consent to do
so because that is something that
is fun and enjoyable for me.
Neither of us were having
fun and we knew that wasn’t going
to change. So, after standing in
line for about 45 minutes, paying
to park, and paying to get in, we
were in the actual club for about 15
minutes if you count the time we
spent in the bathroom. We pretty
much spent $40 to pee in a club.
We walked out of the club and down the long stairs to
the street. A bouncer asked, “Are you really leaving? Why
are you going so early?!” I was tired, annoyed and my feet
hurt, so I exited by shouting “Because I want to and I do
what I want”. We walked a little ways down the street until
I saw a few steps and decided that I couldn’t go on and
needed to take a break and sit. As a sat on some steps in
the middle of Atlanta at midnight on a Wednesday after
attempting to go to a club, I decided to take a moment to
reevaluate my life. I felt like I was in a movie and thought
that maybe I would have some great revelation. Unfortunately, all I managed came up with was that I would write
about this. I don’t even really like going the club.
By, Gabby of Gabrielle
Antoinette
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