The Clubber That Hates Clubbing

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If you know me personally, you know that I am a nightlife connoisseur. Beginning at age 18 I began working in the nightclub industry as a GOGO dancer, a cocktail waitress, a host, a promoter and of course the one who rejected the popular line, “I swear I am on the guest list, look again” woman. When I moved to Los Angeles, I still had people from the Bay Area asking me to put them on the guest list or advice in where to take their guests on a Friday night. Within one month that I moved to Los Angeles, I had people contacting me for LA hot spots and guest list info. I didn’t even work in a nightclub in Los Angeles when this was happening.

You see, what I have come to realize, is that I am no longer that person. I use to be and in turn that is where I met many of the men I was dating here in Los Angeles. Now I know what you are thinking, “this is why you are single! You can’t meet men in the nightclub!” I hate that comment, why not? I am a firm believer in that you can meet men and women anywhere. I will take this even one step further; I bet you can meet good men in a strip club too. Trust me, I did it. Both men and women want to go out at night. Makes sense. Some select the bar, others select a nightclub, and too many select the strip club. It is never fair of us to say their intensions are bad, I would hate to meet a man who failed to step out of his house once in a while. Oh that’s right, I wouldn’t.

So, now we have a problem in that I titled this post, “the clubber that hates clubbing” with material that supports meeting someone in the nightlife scene. Yea, I would like to modify my viewpoints in that it is imperative which nightlife locations you select. If there is one thing you are to take away from Swag Etiquette, it is this. Cross off Hollywood nightlife as your location to meet someone in LA and here is why:

It was Thursday night when I decided to step out to the Hollywood club scene and it was that same Thursday that I told myself “what the fuck is wrong with people!?” Sorry readers, there was no way I could filter that remark. As I walked up Hollywood boulevard to Blok nightclub I realized the importance in carrying around hand sanitizer because apparently handholding is the new go to line. Please don’t touch me, I don’t have health insurance. As I approached my destination, I noticed a long line wrapping around the corner that would later turn into a reminder of what it is like to enter a dog shelter. I can’t hear myself think with you barking“where you comin?!” You see where I am going, it’s inside. Being no stranger to the scene, I knew this line would only be temporary and I would soon be safe from adopting an unwanted pet due to pity. I approached the front of the line and questioned security, which was the guest list line in the most charming and genuine fashion. I wasn’t on the guest list. Ladies, this is what you always do so security has the chance to scan you and hold open the ropes if approved. Ladies, as a side note, always respect security and make use of the charm you have if you have any hopes in getting in quickly. I walked right inside only to remind myself that I was one hour too early because LA nightlife firmly believes in starting on a Friday morning for a Thursday night event. A group of promoters approached my girls and I to sit at the tables using the classic line, “come join us at the table. Don’t worry, our bottles are coming.” And you wonder why “The Thirst is Real,” women are opportunists.

As we sat at the table, the bottles failed to appear and multiple men approached me encouraging me to remain seated, the bottles were coming. It was at that point I reassured them I was not drinking that evening and made an effort to spark up the conversation. This is the worst part of trying to meet men in a nightclub; their conversational skills are beyond lacking in that they feel the need to stand up on the couch holding a bottle of cheap champagne as they wait for the cheaper hard liquor. As more than three conversations failed, I sat back and observed those that remained seated on their cell phones. This is the highlight of the night. When the bottles did arrive, the promoter pours less than an ounce of Vodka, a splash of cranberry and two ice cubes. Now being a promoter in the past let me remind you that these bottles are comped used to bring in guests. Unfortunately these promoters fail to impress and continue to criticize women of the thirst while I now criticize you for being unimpressive. Come on guys, you simply add more juice and ice with a garnish in order to be perceived a good host while you have enough liquor to supply. Get it together!

Filled with boredom, I did my round. I refer to “my rounds” as a nightclub tradition in that throughout the night I literally make my round as if I am searching for someone I know. I don’t know anyone, I always come alone and I will explain my reasons for that in another post. If I do come with guests, they are often at the table we are seated at or by my side. They are never lost. These rounds provide you the opportunity to see who else is in desperate need of company. I refer to those people as “the loners.” Unfortunately, the loners played it smart and stayed in that Thursday night leaving me flooded with the “wrist grabbers,” the “mean muggers,” the “female pushers,” and poorly executed lines and hand holds as they drop their drink down your thigh and shoes. My favorite was the guys that demanded I come up to their table after having a friend scan and request my approach. Bitch please, you can walk up to me and introduce yourself like a grown man. I was prepared for challenges in the dating scene where men fail to remember the importance in opening doors, a telephone call, and an intellectual conversation but I was not prepared to shout out “at your service sir” based on a request.

Two hours in and I was done. As I said my goodbyes, I anxiously rushed up the stairs only to look back and take in the scene once more.  While the majority of the women crowded the tables that would become unrecognizable in the morning, the men continued to decorate their booths with effortless posture with a cell phone in one hand and a bottle in the other. Officially unimpressed, I shook my head and made my exit. Walking back to my car I had the pleasure of walking down the darker side of the street so cars passing by would see me as unrecognizable and keep it moving. Unfortunately, a G37 circled twice only to park in a red zone and rush up to me. Now I will admit I gave him the time of day because I am an admirer of the G37. Okay, and the poor guy made use of refreshing conversation with a few good compliments thrown in. However, he was most certain not for me and kept it moving after a five minute conversation on comparing car stats, I did not walk out with one number that night.

Lesson: I hate to be that individual that informs her readers of the bad, the really bad, and the impossible. Unfortunately, when it comes to Hollywood, I can’t help but enlighten my readers in that maybe it is in fact not the best place to meet an individual you are in hopes of seeing the following morning. Based on what you are looking for, modify your search to a more fitting nightlife placement but always search where the glass the man is holding has been paid for with honest work and the approach will not require hand sanitizer or therapy.