... That Don't Impress Me Much.

My first visit to a club tonight. I know, I know, I've always slammed clubbing/pubbing waaay before I've tried either. Now that I've experienced both, my verdict is this: My time and money can be better spent else where, doing something I really enjoy, with the people who actually MEAN something to me.

Post-clubbing experience - taking off my earrings in front of the mirror, I was disturbed by a faint but insistent ringing in my ears. Mum commented how strong the smoke smell was. Indeed. I nearly died when I caught a whiff just from my handbag. And my hair. *wails* MY HAIR reeked of it, and the shitty smell lingers on even after a thorough scrubbing with green tea shampoo. I daren't even dump my clothes in the laundry basket for the sake of anyone who might walk into the kitchen. They're being aired at the balcony now... Sigh.

So... what was it like being in Devil's Bar? Just standing outside the entrance made me imagine that orcs were a-coming. Doom... Doom.. Doom... Doom... Doom.. Yes, the dance music is LOUD. Some tunes were tolerable, others just plain bleah, and their live band ought to be sacked. Moving from the blacked-out hang-out area to the dance floor, saw girls getting on with the much hyped-over bartop dancing, but not before being hit in the eyes by strobe lights, which served to make everything around you seem surreal (and if I might say, make you feel drugged). So back to the bartop dancing. Like, B-O-R-I-N-G. Not that a flashy strip show would have appeased me (certainly not!) but honestly, all that hoohaa over just bopping about on a counter? Highly self-conscious me prefered to stay glued along the walls and pillars while 2 of my friends (who shall not be named here) danced nearby, their faces looming close to me every now and then. With the strobe lights the effect was actually rather... amusing.

And hence I continue to question the attraction that clubbing holds upon its fans. Socialising? Not when you have to holler to get yourself heard or squint to seek out a familiar face. Hanging loose? Perhaps achieved after copious amounts of alcohol worked into your system, together with the lighting effects on the dance floor, plus the booming music guaranteed to blow your mind. But really, would the hangover be worth it? Sex? Hrm. Guys (obviously) checking out girls, girls (not so obviously) checking out guys, girls gyrating in a trance-like state, mostly skimpy attire all around. Might be a possibility. Who's bluffing who here - what's so great about feeling all pukey after that one drink too many, or the serious lack of space to truly dance freely? Or maybe that's the point of clubbing - to make yourself feel physically uncomfortable via alcohol so as to push the worries out of your mind, to just not think. We all want to run away from our tormentors at some point of time (myself included). But no, not this way. Not just for a few hours under external influences (a la substances). For the record, I do not percieve alcohol as a drug. We all know it can be abused.

The odd thing is that spending just about an hour in there made me realise that really. I could be doing something more worthy, more fulfilling instead. I'm sure I'll meet with exasperated sighs and you-just-don't-get-it, Von's as one scans this entry (I'm mentioning no names here!). An exorbitant entrance fee plus additional costs for more drinks? Call me whatever you like, but give me a quiet smoke-free place with the people I love, good music, ample floor space (for impromptu outbursts of dancing, haha), and Welch's grape juice instead. Sure, everyone is still entitled to their point of view. The thing is this: I'm challenging yours.