This is the response that I got from my friend last night when I txted her to ask "Why am I at the Jaguar on College Night?"

Clearly I am insane. My baby cousin is in town. She is a baby and has not yet celebrated her 21st birthday. So that limited our pickins of social venues on a Sunday night. Now, since I've been 21, I have eliminated anything with the words "college night" "18 to enter, 21 to drink" because I mean.. I'm grown. So, for the past 2 years me and my cousin have usually hung out during the day or at her house at night, but I broke my rule because she was only in town for a minute and I wanted to spend a little time with her. I should have followed my gut!!

11:00- the insanity begins.. We walk up to the door and the cover was 12 dollars.. 12 dollars? First, why is there a cover for any club out in the 100s. and Second... 12? I'm accustomed to the cover being some multiple of 5. 12 dollars made me immediately feel like I was going into WY homecoming "Watch the Water, Here Come the Dolphins." But it wasn't because J-Ball and Renz would not have let half those outfits into the gym on any night.

While waiting to pay, I see that there is a sign that says, "No cameras allowed, photographer on premises" Oooh shit.. and this was written in magic marker... What kinda place doesn't let you take your own damn pictures? Then I look to my right and realize... the same kinda place that would provide you with an airbrush background featuring a Mercedes and a private plane on a runway. I knew it was going to be a long night..

All this time I am looking at the bright side and thinking that maybe cause I've been drinking the entire ride over, it could be a fun/entertaining night. Anyway, I have my singles out and I look around and see that there are pictures of a variety of women mounted on top of a huge gold Jaguar in the foyer... Women of all the wrong shapes and sizes for this kind of thing... Skirts that were up way too high and nasty thongs showing... like a cheap Black Bike Weekend.. Well.. I hand the lady the cover, get a receipt (yes they handed out receipts!!) and the guy searched my purse.. Then the lady searches me.. runs her hands up and down my body more thoroughly than anyone from any airport ever has.. but I can't help being so damn sexy I suppose.. and I step into the club.. PARTY TIME!!!!

We walk into the club and when I look on the dance floor I realize that this is going to be the most entertaining night of my life... I can no longer feel bad for paying 12 for a club cause clearly my dozen went for the entertainment. Instead of it being a Girls Gone Wild party.. Im sure this party was sponsored by The girls went anywhere from having nothing on to a t-shirt and sweat pants.. hair wasn't combed.. or it was 15 colors..

But it was a lesson in physics.. Girls holding on to their friends so they could back it up properly and men hold on to their friends so they could bend back and hit it just right. Footworking and the 40s.. (what is the 40s you ask... the craziest dance you'll ever see... but you know chicago has a style all its own) I think the outfits were the best... Men in light up sunglasses in red, yellow, green and blue.. Airbrush t-shirts commemorating anything and everything and I just sat there juking in my chair and hoping that I didnt see anyone i knew... the bar was closed so I couldnt even work on my buzz. The music was good, I enjoyed the songs.. nice hits and jams.. but it was not my scene. My cousin and her friends just sat there amazed that they had spent their money on the wackest place in chicago... I was cracking up at men on the prowl.. girls that were thirsty and the random white dude that looked crazy.. but was managing to get a plethora of girls to back it up on him.

This is what sociology should be about... and I wonder if the Precious parties and 370 (was that their name?) were like that... Either way that shit was crazy! First and last time for me!! Anyway.. I am off to be sexy on the northside...

No comments:

Post a Comment