So I had dinner with some friends at a nice restaurant near my place. We were celebrating one of the girl’s birthday. Sort of mine, too, but mostly hers. It was her night, and it ended up being amazing fun.
After dinner we stopped at a night club for their lackluster ladies night. The DJ was playing okay music, until his buddy jumped on a drum kit and drowned out the bass. Electronic beats and live drum kit is a great concept (see The Presets), but in a virtually empty club?
Ladies night at this particular venue meant guys paid a five dollar cover charge. To go upstairs, where the cheaper drinks and all the girls were, cost an extra $2. Going upstairs felt predatory, and the girls were young. Downstairs was a sausage fest, with chairs and tables filling up any kind space of dancing. So we left there pretty early, and headed to a more familiar and friendly place.
This bar was much more accommodating and comfortable. We lined up the jukebox with some 90’s alternative rock. Our little group has a habit of singing along to Lit – My Own Worst Enemy when we go out. We rocked that bar, it was great.
There’s a guy in our group who has a badass apartment building. I’ve been there three times, always after a big night out. We lightly danced to Iggy Azalea – Fancy in his apartment, and went swimming in our underwear.
There were only four of us left at this point, and it was already early Friday morning. It was then that I realized how tipsy everyone else actually was. I don’t have a problem with it, I just hadn’t noticed. The night ended when the host got out of the hot tub and put his shirt on.
We went upstairs, and then I dropped the birthday girl off at her apartment. I drove home, a bit angry about something. I don’t know what ticked me off because nothing bad had happened. It was a great night out. I went to work on Friday with about 3 hours sleep.