anjewoodruffe member for 33 weeks 14 hours Send a message

I’m never certain what I am going to find when I hit the club in New York City on a Friday or Saturday night. Saturday night tends to be more of a younger night but if I have friends in town visiting, I feel obligated to join forces with the B&T’s (bridge & tunnel’s). I am 33 but I do enjoy a good party where they play a mix of music and I can pretty much bump and grind my way through a good four hours in some sexy stilettos. Some of my friends in my age category are not into the club scene since it attracts a younger crowd and many of them don’t listen to pop radio. I am a radio addict – you name it – I listen to it. I can pretty much sing every song on Z-100, Power 105 and Hot 97; I can give it to you in Hip Hop, R&B, alternative, reggae and even some old school rap, deep funk and drum and bass. I am somewhat unusual that way, I suppose. In almost any crowd I go into, I can adapt to whatever music is being played. Many of my friends in my age group, are not quite as flexible in their tastes.

All the same, I had a friend who is a Hip Hop dancer visiting me from the UK and we decided to check out the clubs and see what’s crackalackin on a Saturday night. We’re both in our mid-thirties, familiar with all sorts of music and we both love to dance (him being the professional and me resorting to the all encompassing Trini wine for all things music). My party cohort however, is a sober channel. He does not drink (do you see me weeping?) so I felt compelled to restrain myself after 2 glasses of Prosecco. It’s a different experience looking at a club of drunk people, when you’re one of the sober ones. There were so many highlights that night that earned many a laugh and in some cases a series of giggles from both me and my friend. It’s hard to choose which stories were the best but three stick out in my mind.

Number 1: Women - Please wear panties under your mini’s.
Don’t get me wrong here, if going commando is your thing, feel free to let the bushes or the Charlie Chaplain mustache run wild but not at the expense of your bushes being on the club website. There was one particularly predatory African American male, who seemed to like drunk Caucasian women in short skirts. At one point, I took a seat (the DJ was playing some whack as hell music) and there was a guy sitting next to me with a camera phone who was very busy trying to get a good angle. Curiosity got the better of me and when I followed his camera angle it let me straight into the young lady’s Brazilian wax! His friend was grinding on the woman from behind and every time she tilted forward, dude with the camera phone next to me was taking pictures of her love muffin with his camera phone. Can we say disgusting and deplorable!

Number 2: There will be Ganja smoking.
There was a young man wearing one of those skull and bones hoodie/sweater combinations walking through the club. He did seem very odd to be there since he was alone and very under dressed but as he walked past me, I got a serious contact high in 2.2 seconds. He was carrying some serious Skunk (so called because it’s powerful and Smelly). Two minutes after he would walk by, the club security would come in with their $.99 cent flashlights looking for smoke. They didn’t need smoke to find this dude – he smelled as though he rolled himself in the joint! But it was hilarious to see the security running all over the club looking for someone who wasn’t hiding at all.

Number 3: It’s raining Dollar, Dollar Bills!
This was probably the highlight of my night. Some unfortunate drunk person, decided to throw some dollar bills into the air in an attempt to gain his girlfriends’ confidence that he had so much money, he could afford to part with a roll of dollar bills. Wow – a true baller! He had nothing on Diddy. I must do the set up so you get an idea of how the scene played out. Most of the women were very well dressed in their Bebe dresses and glittery Forever 21 outfits and Coach bags, sexy tall boots and some in their six inch heels. Closest to me was a young lady in a black glitter top, some shiny leggings with some seriously high toe bender boots and a ‘fro that outshone that of Angie Stone! As the dollar bills came down, the girl with the ‘fro’s face lit up like it was manna from Heaven. She, along with several other young women, dropped to their knees onto the floor clearly ignoring the spilled drinks and glass on the floor and they went about proudly collecting their dollar bills. Ms. Fro-licious next to me, tucked her findings into the side of her bra and was smiling to herself for having been so lucky to have gotten enough money to buy that Mc Donald’s supersized extra value meal when she left the club. The Dj started to rock a lil deep funk and Ms. Fro-licious was waving her hands in the air with the excitement her dollars gave her and didn’t quite notice when her stack of bills, fell from her bra onto the floor by her toe bending boots. Then, behind her came an inebriated, little pixie of a woman, who saw the roll of dollar bills on the floor, bent down picked them up and put them into her handbag and Ms. Fro-licious didn’t notice a thing. At that point, I was laughing so hard at the irony of the whole situation and I really hope Ms. Fro-licious didn’t want that meal from Micky D’s too much – since she would have been short by about ten dollars.

All in all it was a fun night with some definite laughs but it seems that there is not an easy place for someone like me. In one sense, while I like dancing and listening to all kinds of music, I feel like I am being punished because I am forced to party with 20-something year olds. When I go to clubs with people in my age group, I am forced to listen to James Brown and Prince all night and no one dances. They all do the sit and sway, nod their heads and say “yea – now this is music”. Well, the classics will always be the classics but sometimes you need some good beats with stupid lyrics to make you smile and get that body shaking. This in essence is the success of pop radio. However, I love the feeling I get when I am out dancing; it makes me feel young and happy. It would be nice if club owners could find a place where us 30-something year olds can go and party as well, without the drama and the drunks, to a good mix of music where we can dance and not sit all night as though we have arthritis in our knees. There is nothing sexier than being with your man (or a man, even if borrowed) and holding him and wining and grinding on him and just experiencing each other’s body in a physical way that is not quite sexual. It’s another level of intimacy that is just so darn sexy, I don’t see why we need to be left out of the fun!