I think I've been underground for too long. Music-wise, that is. I've gotten used to the smaller venues, grittier djs, and cool eclectic mixture of people that surround this arena. Last night I went to a club I used to frequent quite often my first year or two in Chicago. And it blew me away at how much I didn't fit in there. The people disgust and depress me. The drinks are way over-priced and about 2/3 of the place is blocked off for VIPs. Are you fucking kidding me?
Those of us who didn't pay the $120+ to be VIP were crowded into a tiny space the size of my living room, it seemed. I didn't realize how short I was until I stood in a field of giants, like last night. And I was feisty! I wasn't feeling this place one bit. So when I finally got a sort-of, can kind of see the dj if I look underneath this guy's armpit and over this girl's hair, I was prepared to fight to keep it. People were squeezing in like banana bushels and when the Kings of the Giants forced their giantness in front of me, I was not pleased.
After some fightin' words (ok, let's be honest, bitchy words) from my side, I got my armpit, top of hair, spot back. I guess working for a company that totally bitchifies their employees came to some usefulness finally. I looked over to my left and saw this classic stereotypical club guy really going for it. He had the mirror sunglasses on (my number 1 pet peeve in existence), the glow sticks in hand, and was jumping around like a Mexican Jumping Bean only more so. He was nearly chewing his fucking lips off his face and was all over his date like the lacquer on my new painting. I looked above me and saw the posey girls that belong at the horribly cheesy clubs in my neighborhood. Instead they're at Tiesto and pretending to be dancers above the crowd in their gold stilettos, fake tan, fake hair, fake everything.
What happened to this place? Or...what has happened to me? I haven't been here in a year and boy, what a change. The bf and I couldn't take the heaving monkey pit any longer so we retired to the room next door for a much needed sit down and breather. It was at this point that the night perked up considerably. We laughed together and drank a shot that I found out after downing was called "A Red-Headed Slut." How the eff do they think these things up?
Bf and I chair-danced and laughed some more. We acted silly and drank our Red-Headed Sluts. I think I'm done with these mainstream clubs/djs, though. The atmosphere depresses me and I enjoy myself much more in the underground domain. Tiesto pulled through nicely but his music doesn't bring me to Heaven like it once used to. Sad but understandable since I know I'm not the only one to have changed.