so I went out to the Supper Club the other night..with Rosa, my very good friend Nadine and two of her girlfriends. I have been to all black clubs before(in fact, that's usually my kind of thing) but I think this was the first time that I was the only white girl in the place. Try not to be self-conscious about that. In addition to me paling in the shadow of my girlfriends I wasn't exactly dressed too stylishly. While everyone around me seemed to be wearing glittery shirts, jewelry and pumps, I couldn't find anything else in my closet than a combination of clothes which made me look like I'm heading to the beach and didn't want to mess up the good skirt. Good thing I started drinking, so this wasn't anything one drink couldn't fix (for those of you who don't know me...I never ever drank any alcohol until about a year ago). One diluted Pineapple Malibu, a couple of anonymous gropings later and I felt much better about myself. I remember the days when I used to swing at anyone who even tried to touch me without permission. After 10 years with the same man these days are over. ;) Now, someone touches me and I'm like "mhm...look I've been touched by ANOTHER man! :D." You go for the ass or the boobs (which really doesn't happen) I still will pop you in the eye, of course, but I've become much more lenient. After all, it looks like that's all I'm gonna get...since I find myself unable to cheat. But let's see...there is always room for growth. ;)
So, after a while I loosened up and started shakin' that booty (i.e. danced some..or lots).
When I finally took a break and sat down on the stairs around the dance floor, some guy holds his blackberry in front of me.
I: "what?"
he: "your number is missing."
I: "ah..of course. ..and what is your name?"
he: "Tony."
I: "Tony, there are two reasons I can't put my number in your phone.
1.) You are wayy too young for me. You are like a baby-boy."
he: "I'm 30 years old."
I: "no, you're not!"
he: "yes, I am"
I:"no, you're not."
he: "yes, I am."
I: "lemme see some i.d."
He pulls out his i.d. and it turns out he really is 30 years old. It also turns out that his name isn't Tony, it's Bruce.
I: "ehm,...Tony....if you are giving me your id you should probably try to remember that this will reveal the fact that you're lying about your name. Not a good way to start out."
he: "I was gonna give you my real name, if we would have started talking over the phone."
I: "if you're gonna pick a false name, at least pick something less corny. Tony....that's a bad player's name."
he: "...really? ...then.... Tyrone maybe?"
I:"ehww... no. worse. ...maybe something like Troy. That's a cool name."
he: (pondering) "Troy. ...like the movie."
I: "...ya ...the movie... (sigh)"
he: "so, can I have your number."
I: "no. and here goes reason number 2 (I should have probably prioritized differently;) : I'm married."
he: (pause) "I'm married, too."
I: "And you're rappin' to me? I should slap you upside down the head on behalf of your wife."
he: "hey, you're rappin' back."
I: (thinking: I think, I am.) saying: "no, I'm just responding to you as not to be rude."
he: "mhmm........ so can I have your number.... we could just be friends."
I: "yeah, right. ...thanks, but I have enough friends. And I'm sure your wife wouldn't appreciate me very much."
he: "I'm not really married. I just switched my ring over to this finger."
I: "I didn't want to say anything...but your ring looks like a pimp's ring...all flashy like that."
he: "ok, I'm going to try one more time...cuz I really enjoy talking to you. can I please have your number."
I: "ehm, no. ...besides our relationship already lacks in trust big time ;) ."
he: (sighs)
to which I gave him a big smile good-bye and made my way back to the dancefloor.
Unfortunately, the DJs of the night were quite annoying. They just couldn't shut up. Not a single song did they let play without them interrupting every 5 seconds (and I am NOT exxagerating here). As the night went on, they became more and more daring and at the end they were just playing songs like "lick that p*ssy, lick that cr*ck" ...and telling guys to shout out if any women "ever did some stupid sh*t" to them and "you just wanted to beat her up" to which they then played some song which had a chorus going something like this "f*ck that trick. f*ck that trick".
I was in shock that women were still dancing to this completely disrespectful sh*t. I mean, I like rap and hiphop, so I obviously can take a fair share of women-bashing, but there are some limits, no? At one point, I just can't take it with humour anymore. Were is your self-respect, ladies?
Speaking of which, ... what is happening to the FCC regulations? Not that I am a supporter but it's all kind of weird. This morning I'm driving in to work, my car-radio tuned to 105.1 (Rap, HipHop, R&B), and a commercial for some event comes on that ends with the sentence: "Get your a** over there ni**er" (hmm, how do I bleep out the word 'nigger'...shit, now I wrote it down...I just hate that word...and I'm not even black.... so I'm thinking...if I -- non-black, maybe still a bit old-fashioned -- take offense in this commercial, then what about every black person my age or older? ...well, I'm gonna ask some of my friends what they think...I'm curious.)
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
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2 comments:
Goodness, I need to start reading this thing again!
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