Monday, April 9, 2012

Fuck you, bitch!

Abracadabra, grasshoppers
 

I finally decided to hit up the club last Friday after weeks of getting my hermit on…I haven’t clubbed in weeks…working on the second installment of the Thick series held my weekends hostage



Club Element in Lower East Side Manhattan was on my bulls-eye…4 years had passed since I partied at that spot…I personally think Element is the BEST Urban spot to party on Fridays

 

A lot of the women were BAD…bad meaning good for the slow folks…most of them stayed @ VIP and rarely ventured off...but some shorties weren't on point...especially this one I caught with hammer toes



Speaking of VIP, I saw 2 minor differences from ’08 to now:

A) The stage was now a VIP spot (turning every open spot @ the club into VIP is becoming popular in NYC…hey, I’m not mad at ‘em #MakeYourMoney)
 

B) You supposedly needed a wrist band to hit up the top balcony which they also turned into VIP (most of the females I saw hit up the top floor DIDN’T have on a wrist band) 


I started to hit off the bouncer with a 20 spot so he can let me upstairs into VIP…I changed my mind seconds later
 

Don’t get me fucked up…I didn’t wanna hit up VIP because of the women or feel important…I just didn’t feel like bumping into folks in the crowded ass dance floor
 

Suited and Booted
Sticking with my principles to not pay for VIP kept me grounded…I made the best out of staying with the crowd on the main floor

I used that night to “people watch”…I only talked to females when I passed out bookmarks…no game spitting that night
 

Matter of fact, I don’t like spittin good game @ females at the club on Fridays and Saturdays…most women who go clubbin those two nights are usually extra standoffish or just wanna party with their homegirls
 

I don’t have the time nor energy to play the game of possibilities when it comes to finding out if a chick is feeling me
 

Women are usually receptive to good game on Sundays or after work jumpoffs during the weekday…I play the background, get my sip on, promote my book a lil bit, and nod to the music on Fridays and Saturdays

You know dem boys lurked heavy outside the club with their Code Black lights flashing


 

Some things I saw during my people watching:
 


A) The usual thirstiness from guys tryna get dances from chicks by coming from behind
 

B) Most of the bangin’ chicks stayed in VIP
 

C) The Soca room downstairs (aka The Vault) were filled with thirsty niggas tryna grind on chicks (Not enough females in The Vault)
 

D) Either the DJs had identical playlists, or the same dude played the same songs twice (I didn’t care too much about the music…then again, I’m hard to impress)
 

E) Not a lot of chicks danced with dudes and rather kept with their circle
 


Let me expand on E…
 

It seems like young party girls nowadays don’t like dancing with dudes (if you call grinding “dancing”)…even when they did dance with the fellas, they only danced with them for a half song and jetted back to their clique…LOL
 

You usually find men and women dancing together @ clubs catering to the mature audience (ages 30 and up)…shouts out to my cougars that ain’t on that Hollywood shit
 

Now…here comes to the fuckery
 

I lost my coat check ticket for the first time in my history of clubbin…I left the dance floor after 2am to head home…I told the Black chick who worked the coat check that I lost my ticket
 

This broad gonna tell me to “wait til everybody gets their coats” before I can leave
 

I told her I gotta jet NOW…the other coat check lady went out her way to look for my jacket…shouts out to her for making an effort
 

The other broad just sat there…she wasn’t doing shit but sitting tryna look cute (peep the last pic of this blog for emphasis)
 

Trayvon Martin gets killed, and I can’t get a Black female to help a brotha find his coat and hoody (gotta love the hoody irony, huh?)
 

The white young lady, or light skinned Latina, who ALSO worked coat check went out her way to search for my things by re-arranging the coat check racks and standing on the folded two-step to look for my coat on the top rack
 

The Black chick STILL didn’t do jack...what kinda Willie Lynch shit is that???
 

I jetted to re-trace my steps and still didn’t find my blue coat check ticket…I waltzed back to coat check minutes later and started separating the coats that were in my reach in front of the counter


The lazy broad: You’re not allowed to do that
 

Me: It’s not like you helpin' me
 

(points to a coat that looks like mine)
 

I think that’s my coat right there!
 

The lazy broad: (takes coat off the rack)
 

Me: That’s my jacket. It got a hoody inside
 

The lazy broad: It has no hoody
 

Me: Unzip the coat. The hoody is tucked inside
 

The lazy broad: (looks inside the coat and finds the hoody…then looks at me funny as if I’m lying)
 

Me: That’s my coat! The hoody says The Burn U Movement in the back of it

The lazy broad: (checks the back of the hoody and sees the lettering) See, I helped you find your jacket
 

Me: You didn’t do a damn thing. I was the one who pointed out the coat!

 

Not only she was lazy, but she also tried taking the credit for finding my coat…she reminds me of that co-worker or classmate who takes credit for helping out on a project when she hardly put an ounce of effort into the work
 

There was hardly a line for coat check…I would’ve stayed until the 4am close if that wasn't the case...people came in fragments throughout the night

Hitting her off with a 6 dollar tip earlier that night capped off my frustration…I’m gonna decide whether I should tip coat check AFTER I get my shit from now on…real talk
 

I got my things and jetted
 

Not until I took the picture of the person who should be next to “fuckery” in the dictionary

Fuck you, BITCH!!!

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