Apologies for my blog absence recently. I am currently without Internet at my house and the blog is blocked on the Internet at work. I can't imagine why.
Last night I went out with some girls from work for dinner, drinks and dancing. The dinner and drinks all went to plan and then we went on the hunt for some dancing...
I graduated from college about 3 years ago. I also graduated from going to sleazy clubs 3 years ago. In fact, even in college, I rarely went to the type of club we found ourselves in. You know the type: loud music, cheap drinks, girls in short skirts, guys ogling, the smell of sweat mixed with the smell of people on heat. I wasn't a fan back in college of the type of guys that were in that place and I'm even less of a fan now. They really should've grown out of it.
My friend and I (everyone else had gone home at this point) surveyed the scene. It didn't look promising. I spotted a couple making-out quite, um, vigorously. I pointed them out to my friend Helen saying: "Aw look, they're getting an STD." I'm definitely not in college anymore.
We decided that as we had come for dancing then we might as well dance and the music was good. However, can I just ask, what right do men think they have to stare at girls and then grab their waists? Or come up to girls and start, what can only be described as gyrating, in front of them? It's disgusting. It was almost like they thought that because they paid £10 to get into the club, they had the right. Never do they have the right.
I know that in the past I have complained about British men and their lack of confidence when it comes to approaching women. Perhaps I should clarify: the British men that are sleazy, sweaty and downright repulsive, under no circumstances, do I want them to approach me. The nice, grown-up men who aren't drunk and think that it is highly inappropriate to grab a girl when they're dancing may by all means approach me. Unfortunately as we all know, we can't always get what we want in life.
By 2am Helen and I were fed up of the meat market and left with the scent of heat clinging to our clothes and our feet sore from our toe pinching shoes. We headed back to mine for tea and toast.
I'm so glad I'm not in college anymore.
4 comments:
oh trust me, that behavior isn't just British men. At least brits have cool accents going for them LOL here in Hawaii, in the beautiful scenery, we still deal with the same thing. Except the men WILL talk to you, but 9 times out of 10, they just want some booty.
I'm very excited that we have a reader in Hawaii. We stretch over what, 10 time zones? Awesome.
Few things give me the heebie jeebies more than a stranger putting his hands on my waste. Yuck.
A stranger put his hands on your waste?!? Gross!
Oh yes, a stranger put his hands on my waist. Lucky, lucky me.
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