Adventures in clubbing

Friday night it was decided, we were going to go out, we were going to have a girls’ night and it was going to be great.  We (Gail, Anna, Valerie and myself) were meeting Gail’s friend, Juliet, and two of her other friends at the place where her birthday party is scheduled to happen in a couple of weeks; she wanted to go check it out.  So, G, A, & V all met up at my place, dressed to the nines and bearing wine.  We gossiped and drank until Valerie wouldn’t stop insisting that we go.  It was still early, but on our way we went to check out this “hip” new club.

We got there early, so it was still pretty empty, but filled up fairly quickly.  The more time passed, the more people drank, the more we were approached by the guys in this club.  By about 1am it looked like we’d ended up somehow on Lond Island.  Anyway, these guys kept coming up to us and we kept turning them down, they couldn’t seem to comprehend that 7 girls wanted to have a girls’ night out and not go home with them.

So there was this guy, black pants, white button up shirt with the top button open and no tie, black jacket.  He was somewhere between 5’8″ and 5’10” and looked like he was some sort of Hispanic (not Mexican).  He came up to me countless times throughout the night and when he did he would approach me from behind.  He would run his hands over my hips or grab my butt.  Every time I would move his unwanted hands.  Every time he’d attempt to dance on me I would stand completely erect and still.  He would walk away.  Finally, I was incredibly annoyed, as were the other girls, and this guy was affecting our night in that we were no longer enjoying ourselves, but on the lookout for him.  He came up again.  This time I whipped around and yelled, “I don’t want to dance with you.”  He turned quickly around (like I imagine Mr. Bean would) and darted through the crowd.  I moved to the other side of the circle and a few minutes later I felt the same hands on my hips.  Did he not understand English?  So I whipped around again, ready to chew some ass, but this time it was a younger, taller, slightly (only slightly) less creepy guy.  I surprised him and he sort of wigged out back and took off.  Oops.  Sorry.  From then on I was sort of the protector of the group, keeping unwanted hands away.  It wasn’t bad…sort of maternal actually, it seems to be what I always end up doing.  What can I say, I’m the resident bitch.

About 3 we made our way out onto the streets of Manhattan.  I believe I had enough of Long Island while there to last me the rest of the summer.  Until I go back for Juliet’s party.  When walking back to my apartment there were 3 guys standing on the corner.  People are always awake here.  We walked past and they said we looked like Barbie.  I don’t have blonde hair anymore, but I was wearing pink. 

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