Tuesday, December 13, 2011

I paid $20 to chaperone this high school dance

And all I got out of it was a facebook status update that resulted in this blog post.

A few weeks ago, I ventured out of my safe, warm, usually snack filled apartment for a night out on the town. Which town? I'm not sure, but according to google maps, it is where placentia, fullerton, and maybe anaheim touch. So we will call it plafullerheim. We went to this particular club in plafullerheim for the birthday party of a high school friend of my boo. Like the only other Orange County club I've been too recently, this was located in a shopping area where you might find a dollar store, mini-mart, taqueria, nail salon with Korean art, and a donut shop. Upon our arrival, we were dismayed to find the guest list was closed and we had to pay $20 per person. $20?! Can't I just sneak in through the Panaderia next door? No.

When we went in, I was immedaitely struck by the malodorous quality of the establishment, but luckily there was something else going on that distracted me from the smell. As it turns out, we had inadvertently paid to enter a children's gym! Weird. Those kids must be night owls.

Ohhhhh no, these are just the X clubbers, branded with the black marker X that distinguishes the 18+ cohort from the upper echelon of fluorescent bracelet wearers drinking up all the bar's liquor. A bar WITHOUT diet coke, btw. There were many, many X marked hands that evening, and I am pretty sure they were all high school seniors.

I struggled to keep an expressionless face as I observed the teens sometimes awkwardly, sometimes too expertly, grind against each other. I shouldn't see this! If I knew their parents, I would feel compelled to inform them! Too old. I am tooooo old for this shit. And the outfits of these young women didn't make it any easier to hide the judgment from my face, or the sadness.

What the hell ever happened to a going out top and jeans? I used to go out a lot, and that was the key to a successful going-out-outfit! Sure, there were handfuls of women that made poor choices like mini skirts and dresses that made it impossible to keep one's dignity in tact. But now! Now such attire is practically a fucking requirement! And whhyyyyyyy the plasticky material? You cannot, I repeat cannot, wear a dress and get low. Or twerk. Or grind. Or any of those things that aren't a great idea to begin with but can be very fun. Well, you can, but not without ruining any chance of showing an ounnce of respect for yourself. This can be difficult enough for young women without compounding it by showing your vag as you literally get down on the floor. Or letting your whole ass hang out of your spandex mini while you back it up. These things happened, but since I wasn't ACTUALLY chaperoning a dance, there was nothing I could do about it.

See how appropriate I look?

I have a more serious take on this type of behavior that I'll get into another time, but for now I'll just say this: Ladies, if you want the freedom to dirty dance the night away, please wear pants. If you want to show some leg, please wear shorts. Even booty shorts if it means keeping your private parts private. Thanks, much appreciated.

1 comment:

  1. Giiiirrrrll, you look supah fly in your club-appropriate attire. And you're also quite funny. *kick*


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