We’ve got magic to do

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So, last night, I was planning on spending a nice evening at home watching Empire Strikes Back and wondering why I don’t ever hang out with people.
Then, an old friend from high school calls me and invites me to a dance club.
And then I’m reminded why.
But my inner voice says, “No, Lauren. You need to go out. Hell, maybe you’ll even meet someone your age! This could be the best decision you’ve ever made!”
Then another voice says, “The force is strong in this one. Stay home. THESE AREN’T THE DROIDS YOU’RE LOOKING FOR!”
Then another voice says, “I want a cheeseburger.”
Then I get into some metaphysical schizophrenic argument with myself, and before I know it, I’m at the club.
People, if you learn anything from me, learn this.
Everyone is an idiot.
Okay, I know I’m in the minority here, but bars and clubs are SO IDIOTIC.
Let’s think about something here.
We reserved a bed. A BED.
Like one of those things you see in trendy swinger movies with 20-something hipsters.
So here I am, sitting on a bed with 20-something hipsters, hiding my tennis shoes, because there was a dress-code, and they’d snuck me in with their heels and rockstar shoes.
So there I am, sitting on the bed, ,my OCD kicking in and making me worry about everyone else’s shoes messing up the sheets.
One of the chicks pulls me up to dance, so I oblige.
I like to dance, but I like to dance to make my friends laugh.
I don’t actually have “moves,” I have “ridiculous wigglings,” and I’m not gonna do this here.
So I stuck to my consevative moves (which still rock).
But let’s say that I came here to meet someone.
Reasons Why No One Should Ever Be Able to Meet Anyone At A Club:
1. Fucking Loud: You can’t talk. You can’t learn someone’s name, number, or whether or not they are a complete psychopath/can speak English.
2. Epilepsy: Okay, let’s just assume everyone ISN’T under the influence of alcohol. The lights are frigging flashing and blinding everyone and it’s simultaneously too dark and too bright to see anyone.
3. Dance Circles: Okay. I only have the guts to go on the dance floor with someone I know. Whenever a strange guy grinds his way over, everyone I have EVER been to a club with scoots the hell away and then sighs loudly when they leave. Are we NOT there to meet people?
4. Sweaty and Disgusting: Is this hot to people? If so, then I should be a model.
5. Groucho Marx Syndrome: Does anyone actually want to date someone who was the type of person who dated people they met at a dance club?
6. Too Much Info: Do you think it turns me on that you know all the words to that song about milkshakes and yards? Does it turn you off that I know all the words (and choreography) to the song Footloose? Nobody wins here, people.
7. Damn, It Feels Good to Be a Gangster: Listen, Suits McBusinessman, I know you’ve been “grinding away” at the “rat race” all week, but is it really cathartic to change “rat race” to “slutty secretary who looks like she forgot 3/4 of her shirt”?
Somebody send out a memo that says you guys are lame.
Well, I can only think of seven.
And I did have a good time, but after having been there about an hour, I wished I had come later, so I didn’t have to leave before everyone else like some kind of social leper.
I don’t even think they bought my pumpkin/carriage excuse.

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