i don’t go out that much. not for any one reason over another, i just don’t. but occasionally i suffer a build-up of boogie and i gotta go dance. last night was one of those nights. i met up with a new found friend and after the identification scan and size-up by security i gained access to the sounds that would make me shake a tail feather. but to be honest, upon entering, i was so caught up in the behaviors of the crowd that i almost forgot to dance. people watching is an all time favorite past time, but intoxicated dancing folk of all ages is far beyond what the mind can conceive. in bad form, i spent the majority of the evening typing notes into my cell phone. my fellow boogie-r told me
“i’m going to take that phone away from you, get off facebook.”
to which i responded;
” i am not on facebook, i’m taking notes! this is waaaaaay better than facebook.”
and it was. it really was.
as i drove into the parking lot, i found myself apprehensive. i instantly felt overdressed and too old. but i parked, primped and headed for the door. my sweet friend awaiting my arrival. once i got to the door i found other gals dressed to the same tune as me. the young boys that i had seen in the parking lot were not representative of the bar/club male population as a whole. there were all ages, shapes, sizes, races and hair-dos. my mind was wishing that i had a laptop and a video camera so that this post would be complete with audio and visual and provide for you an entire experience. alas, what i have are my memories, my notes and my words.
so let’s get started. the title sums it up. awkward bar behavior. now, far be it for me to say what should and shouldn’t be done. i can only tell you what i like and don’t like and what MY definition of awkward is. everyone likes something different. everyone finds something else attractive and alluring. and then there are a few things that are across the board. i think these are some of those. they are in the order in which they came to my attention.
- don’t sit and stare. this is self-explanatory and to the point. don’t sit and stare. it’s creepy, it makes you look creepy and in a few more seconds you’re going to look like a registered sex offender. so, simply stated, don’t sit and stare. if you like something about someone, tell them. be a grown up and deal with the little bit of rejection and/or possibility that will come with verbal contact. sitting and staring is creepy, don’t do it.
- any pants/underwear/bra adjustment, at all, is not acceptable. again. very simple. we all have situations, but personal adjustments of the body are just strange. for people that are watching you, it can border on disgusting, so be wary of taking place in something so personal in so public. you don’t have to go hide, but turn towards the wall or turn down a hallway or something. don’t just stand there and move things about as if you’re not TOUCHING YOURSELF. we have eyes! we can see you.
- the “i work too hard for my look”. not everyone has style, but those that do flaunt it. i’m good with that. i have no problem with that. but your look, no matter how fan-tab-u-lous and wonderful shouldn’t look like it took you seventeen hours and a set of cliff’s notes to do it. be gorgeous, feel great and work it! but try to make it look a little less like work and more like you.
- the “where ya been giiiiiiiiirl?”. this one was particularly entertaining. it seemed to be a one-sided situation with men walking up to women, attempting to hug them and saying “where ya been giiiiiiiiirl?” most of the girls seemed to be caught off guard and their eyes were squinted with inquiry as to “hmm. do i know him? where do i know him from? how long has it been since i’ve seen him? and why is he acting like we’re bff’s who haven’t seen each other in months? hmm. weird.”
- the shadow dancer. you know this person. they walk up behind some unsuspecting solo dancer and proceed to dance with them without invitation or prompting. they usually tend to do this for their friends and often throw glances, winks, smirks and hi-fives in that direction. i think they deserve a throat-punch, but that’s just me. if you’re a shadow dancer, shame on you, ya freak. ask. if you get rejected, deal with it. otherwise you had better guard your throat!
- bikini clad 1/4 sasquatch girls. mmm hmm. that’s what i saw. beautiful young shapely girls with their make-up done “just so”. dancing upon their tiny stages with a sour look on their faces. one of them was smiling, the other looked like someone farted in her face. it wasn’t until they took a little water break that i saw they were both one-quarter sasquatch. from the knees down, both of them wore long, furry boots. wth? where is this a trend? where is this fashionable and why are they not there instead of here? funny.
- say it don’t spray it. inside a bar/club the music is loud. for obvious reasons. this forces people to speak loudly, bringing their outside voice inside. but, for some, projecting their voice forces them to basically shout. long story short, speak loudly, but do not fling spit on the poor person who is trying to listen to you. this is obviously not only the case in the club, but if it’s the case for you, be aware dammit! the fastest way to get your feelings hurt mid-syllable is to spit on someone. fix it.
- don’t wear your eighty dollar suede Calvin Kleins. you guessed it. i wore my suede Calvin Kleins. outside of the entertainment of people watching, i spent an insane amount of time keeping my toes pointed in and way from traffic and trying to be conscious of the sloppy drunk who would undoubtedly bump into me spilling their drink on me and my shoes. i could care less about the dress or my skin, considering i’m waterproof and all, but my shoes! lord love a duck, don’t touch, step-on, or spill $h!t on my shoes!
- mr. sit-in-the-way. this guy. placed his bar stool into the lane of foot traffic so that he can push his knee, elbow or arm into the lovely passers by. stop it. creep. the next time you try to rub against me, i’m going to donkey-kick you right in the biz-ness! i can’t do anything about you looking, but if you attempt to touch me one more time… well.. it will be your last conscious decision of the day. and i mean that. creep.
- shave, deodorize, and be clean. um.. yeah, it’s that simple. i don’t care if you know you’re going to sweat like a pig in heat. TAKE A SHOWER AND PUT ON DEODORANT. you will not impress anyone with your funk. this includes brushing your teeth. and for the love of pete, if you have something to shave, do it. i don’t want to hear it, just do it.
- do not, don’t and do not touch. i know there are a lot of people in the world considered “touchy feely” people”. i think i’m one. i don’t flinch at a hand shake, hug or kiss on the cheek. i often touch a shoulder or hand when i am talking to someone about something personal or emotional. however, the club is NOT the place to be touchy feely. at all. before you decide to reach out; answer these questions: do you know that person? are you friends? are you friends on any physical level? if the answer to any one of them is NO, don’t touch. just don’t. i know it’s tempting, but don’t. just don’t. it’s comparable to sitting and staring. for me, it’s taken as a total lack of respect for personal space. if you touch me before ever speaking to me.. your voice falls on deaf ears. you have rendered yourself useless. introduce yourself, get a feeling– a vibe and even then… don’t touch without invitation.
- security in mittens? since when did security start wearing mittens? not gloves, i know what gloves look like. mittens. black mittens. ??? is this a security measure? so that when mr. sit-in-the-way gets a little too zealous and he has to be escorted out that they don’t leave fingerprints? too much CSI. mittened hands are creepy in a club. go outside and throw some snowballs, weirdo.
- jack in the box. ok. this is just for the laugh, but i went to jack in the box on my way home. it was about fifty minutes before they closed. they are the only place open at this time in my area and it was obvious. there were at least five cars in front of and also behind me. now, i know there are a few exceptions, but come on people! this is not your first time at jack in the crack. the menu is simple. make up your drunk @$$ mind before you get to the speaker. order. pull forward. pay and get the hell outta the way. the drive-thru worker and i had one helluva hoot and holler over this. i made him laugh something fierce. a good time was had by the both of us. you get the picture. it’s a drive-thru. driiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive-thru.
and with that said, i have concluded my list of club do’s and don’ts. in the event that i should feel pressured to release the boogie again, i’m sure i’ll return with “awkward bar behavior ii”. until then: live, love and laugh. especially laugh.