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Paul and I went clubbing on Saturday. Yes, clubbing. Your eyes do not deceive you.

One of his frat bros was having a birthday party, and being a promoter (his frat bro, not Paul) decided to make all his aging buddies drag their bums out to a club. Not just any club, but a theme night club. Yes, in true fraternity form it was "everyone must wear black" night. Because you know, being a unique individual is just way overrated.

Anyway, I realized that at the ripe old age of not-quite-twenty-seven, I have become a grumpy old man. Outwardly, I smiled and made polite conversation and only yawned visibly a few times, while inwardly I was shaking my fists and complaining about young people and their loud music. Seriously, though, am I too young to feel like I am way too old to be in a crowded, sweaty, dark, loud club full of people so drunk they can barely stand up without swaying back and forth? Do I really want to see some girl grinding on top of some guy she literally met five minutes ago? (A guy who happened to be one of Paul's college buddies) - a scene that made me really glad I opted to check my coat for $3 instead of tossing it on the couch. Do I really want to wonder whether or not the girl behind me on my way to the bathroom is going to throw up on me because she doesn't seem to be able to stand on her own and her friend seems in quite a rush to get her to the bathroom? Am I really supposed to enjoy being in a room so crowded I can't walk from one point to another without being bumped and jostled and having literally no personal space to speak of? Do I enjoy having other people's drinks spilled on me?

I think I can safely say that the answer to all of those questions is a clear and resounding: No.

Pardon me for being prematurely crotchety but I just don't get why clubbing is considered "so fun!" Give me a glass of wine and a good History Channel documentary any day...

Oh and by the way, although I did put on makeup and a dress, I wore my crocs. Because I'm awesome like that.

Labels: Annoyances