Club Etiquette, Explained

clubbing

The ladies have something to say about men in the clubs.  The men are doing it all wrong.

The male approach is awkward/douche-y/pathetic/creepy.  Compounding their errors, they frequently fail to approach at all.

They get too close when they dance. Unless they never dance, which is most of the time.

They stare in a weird way. They never look up from their phones.

They lack confidence. They don’t take hints their attention is unwanted.

They smile as though we were smiling back at them, which we’re not. Most of the time.

We dance together in a protective formation of three. Don’t they know that’s a clear message to squeeze into the space between us?

Except for the guy with the Adam’s apple.  What was he thinking? Clueless.

We spend an extra hour getting ready, just so we could ignore them. Why don’t they understand that?

Why don’t they look like Zac Efron? Why can’t they appreciate our ample booty?

Zac has permission. So does the guy is the blue shirt. Is he looking over here?

We talk amongst ourselves with our foreheads practically touching.  Our loud laughter is a verbal cue to buy us a drink.

But a drink doesn’t entitle them to linger. Don’t they respect boundaries?

There’s a right way, and a wrong way.

They doing it wrong. Losers.

Text me, Tinder boy. Can’t you take a hint?

F*** him. I’m going make my friend flirt with the Uber driver.  He has that sad, married look.

Chink Mystery

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Happy Drunk White Man and Asian Woman in an Uber:

Asian Woman: I got pulled over right here once.  This stupid person was driving so slow,  I just passed them on the shoulder. This cop saw me and pulled me over. It was the one and only time I ever played the Asian card:  “Me so sorry. Me no understand. Me not from this country.”

White Man:  Did that work?

Asian Woman:  I told him I was from Taiwan and “me always drive on shoulder.” Because of the pig trucks taking up the whole road, it’s a very common practice.  I never had to show him my license.

White Man: I want to play the chink card!   (kissing) Can I use yours?

Asian Woman:  (kissing)  You’re terrible.

White Man: I’m not the one doing accents.

(More kissing)

(Indistinct murmurings)

White Man: Driver, we’re not going to the karaoke bar.  Just take us home.

The following evening, Three White People are picked up in front of a restaurant in Beverly Hills:

Man: What was up with John’s dad calling Marshall a chink?  Who says that?

Woman:  I felt embarrassed for him.

Second Man: Don’t feel bad for him, he’s rich.

Woman:  So? It doesn’t entitle you to call people chinks.

Second Man: He was born in Mexico. He came to this country with nothing. He’s self made. He built his business out of nothing.

Man: What’s he really do?  That’s what I want to know.

Woman: He’s a contractor.

Man: I work with contractors every day. I don’t know anyone who has a Black Card.

On the third evening, Two Asian Women are picked up in Santa Monica:

Woman #1:  He’s so shady with me. I don’t understand why I keep following him on Instagram.

Woman #2:  Stop following him already.

Woman #1:  Then how will I know what he’s doing with her?

Woman #2: Gimmie your phone, I’ll delete him right now.

Woman #1: No! I have to know. I’ve synced up with her.

Woman #2: It’s not like she’s the moon.

Woman #1: It’s like she’s taken an axe and cut a chink in the armor of my dignity.