Friday: Got a booth in a swanky club through one of the girls in a group a group of people I’ve met. They’re from all over the world. We stayed for an hour and then they wanted to go to Revolution De Cuba. I’ve been there enough, though- it’s crowded, plays terrible music and takes ages to get served. Also, some creepy twins will be there. The first place was quiet but still nice. It would have been a chance for us all to get to know each other better. But as per, I have zero powers of persuasion. So I went home. I should have stayed and got to know the regulars, but it might have looked weird.
Saturday: Went to Suede last night with the same group. Went with a whole group including RD and a Russian girl, MR, who I suspected might have some kind of problem with me. She didn’t accept my Facebook add a while back.
No big deal. I’ve made an effort to get to know her, but she’s not making it easy. Never stops dancing. I’m not that into her or anything. Maybe I like some of her friends. We booked free entrance passes to Suede online during the week, and on Saturday we went to Oast House for a few drinks. It was absolutely packed. Normally a good place to talk but the live music made that hard. Also you had a choice of roasting inside or freezing outside.
We had to get to Suede before 11 for guest list to be valid, but people were fucking about and not getting their drinks downed. Me and RD were politely encouraging people to get a move on. We got to the venue at exactly 11, but there was already a guestlist queue. When we got to the front, it would be too late.
MR was flaking. “I’m not going in if we have to pay.”
“Well,” I said in an admittedly told-you-so tone, “I tried to tell you we needed to move…”
Then she snapped at me- I can’t remember exactly what she said, but she took me totally seriously and asked me, I dunno, why I needed to complain. “Is that really what we’re talking about?” or something. I told her I was just kidding, but weeks of thinly-veiled simmering resentment clearly rose to the surface and burst in volatile bubble of PMS.
What a beautiful sentence.
I normally get on with everyone, but I can sense that there’s something about me that she just doesn’t like. I can’t figure it out. Normally when someone doesn’t like me it’s because of something I’ve actually done. That’s the reality. Most people like me. I cannot remember anything I could have done to piss off MR.
I realise I’ve written this out, but fuck it. It doesn’t matter. You can’t please everyone. You shouldn’t try. This much, I have learned.
We got into the club (they scan everyone’s driver’s licenses) and I got talking to some drunk big-titted blonde girl. I must have looked like a grade-A prowler to the rest of the group. We talked for a while- she lived quite near to me- but she disappeared. When I caught her up later she darted up a staircase to a VIP booth.
Game is strong.
By the way, girls, asking a bloke how old he thinks you are is a clichéd, shit chat-up line. You can do better.
Another girl in the group, AC, I’d not seen in months and this was only the second time we’d met. She was talking last time about getting a hotel and doing a fuck-ton of drugs. She brought up the same subject last night. Weird. It’s like flirting without flirting. She says she’ll pay for the room. No funny business- just drugs. Fuck, she is hot though- big fake boobs, long dark hair. I’d give it a shot. Whatever “it” is. As for Suede, and the Kinky Lips night- the music was great and made me feel 18 again- tons of house, R+B, hip hop and garage from around 2000 mixed in with more contemporary stuff. Classy venue, plenty of hot women. I was one of the last out from the group.
Well, I’ve had worse nights!