I went out with a whole group of people, because it was my cousin's friend's 18th, so yeah. It... well, it was clubbing. I'm not a huge fan. Don't get me wrong, the excitement of it all was good enough. You know, going out, seeing the city, socialising.
I think one of the main issues is that I should be out of the closet, and gay clubbing - I'd probably enjoy that a lot more. Because clubbing seems to focus, mostly, on sex. Okay, not exclusively, but I don't get why you'd want to dance to horrible boom-boom-boom-BOOM music if you're not planning on getting laid (with varying degrees of success.)
It makes zero sense otherwise. Sure, it's nice to dance... nice-ish. And to drink. But, meh, they aren't that fun, aren't they? Not when you remove the possibility of sex.
My cousin openly hates clubbing. And maybe that's good - maybe I should be more like that. Because I really pretend to have a lot more fun then I actually do, which is probably not good...
All I know is that when I'm out clubbing, I'm not always having this "AWESOME TIME" people seem to talk about. For most of the night I just feel awkward... and... meh. It's like I'll always be the little fat kid with acne and glasses that the other little boys laugh at because he doesn't play sports....
Anyway, let me not reminisce about my disappointing childhood...
But, yeah, the point seems to be this: Get drunk, get laid. Tada. That's it. The dancing is just more of a facilitator of getting laid. So, naturally, at a straight club, it wouldn't hold any appeal for me. Although, I've never been to a gay club, so I wouldn't know, at this point, whether I'd find it just as annoying and pointless.
Anyway, to be less vague, this "city" is Sydney, and we were in Kings Cross - the red light district - woo-hoo. I'm shocked, actually - you come to Aus, and there are all these rules and regulations, ad nauseam, and then I go on a tour and: "This is Kings Cross, the red light district, where prostitution is legal." WILD.
Anyway, before we went clubbing, we went to a strip club. God, I've got to come out - not that it'll prevent me from being dragged places like that - the gay guy in the group still got dragged to it. But, yeah, at least I'll stop wondering if I should maybe pretend that I like it stuff like that.
Because I really don't.
Luckily tho, I was spared the trouble by the strip club being ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS.
It was basically just this row of benches in front of a single stage, and there was one dancer... a youngish girl. Anyway, the reason her act was funny, and not sexy, was that she had like 5 moves... and she just did them over and over and over...
1)She'd do that thing (that strippers do) where she'd swing around the pole, legs in the air (so basically like holding on to the pole with her arms and... I dunno... clamping on it with her... legs, I hope)
2)Then she'd turn upside down, and do a hand-stand for about a full minute...
3)Then she'd come to the front of the stage, lie down (crotch facing the crowd) and stick her legs up in the air and.... gyrate... for a couple of minutes...
4)Then she'd come into the isle between the benches, and shake her... stuff... all around... again, for another couple of minutes....
5)Then she'd.... Go back to the stage and start over!
And, to top it all off, she had this look of abject boredom on her face the whole time.
It was so funny. Yet, at the same time, I was almost as bored as she looked. I think I would have felt that way, even if I was straight.
But, yeah.... it was also kind of sad. Sure, I'm all for strippers rights. And I'm of the opinion that it's only degrading if you let it be. And.... from what I saw... what that girl was doing, was degrading.
Seriously, if I was going to be a stripper... even a male one... I know it's a long shot, but just follow me on this one... I'm sure the last thing I'd feel is boredom. Yes, you can feel nervous, or terribly depressed that you have to resort to it, or you can even embrace it - as an expression of your freedom and independence etc... But, meh, to get bored while you're doing it. That actually breaks my heart a little bit.
Otherwise, the night was good. I wore fancy-assed shoes, that I really shouldn't have, because I was the ONLY ONE wearing fancy-assed shoes, and they KILLED my feet.
Hmmmm, well, that concludes my blog for today. I'm going camping soon - and I'm hoping to write something about that once I'm back in the land of interwebz and eklektricity. I'm so proud of me, for writing this soon after my other post. I'm going to try and keep this up. It's really therapeutic.
And a little shout-out to my hater, who has nothing better to do than "Looking forward to reading [my] blog to see if this(the email he sent me about my story - which he read the latest chapter of, even after "writing it off" as a "lost cause") makes it [here]." Congrats - you've got a mention in my blog now. Asshole.
Probably would have been better to not have said anything at all... but then, I dunno, it might seem like I've seen his message, been hurt by his words, and INTENTIONALLY left him out of my blog.... So I decided to err on the side of bitchiness.
And I fear this may turn into a mud-slinging match, depending on his nature - yes, his and not mine, because if it was purely up to my nature - it's would definitely turn into a huge mudslinging match.
And now I'm really done blogging.
OB:
Spelling/Grammar/Clarity/Embarrassment Management. Apologies for the stripper thing. I really feel like sex workers deserve a lot more respect than they currently get from society. But it was a poignant moment for me - to realise that a job like that can, at the end of the day, just be a job.
No comments:
Post a Comment