On Friday, Jen was done with her convention and wanted to hang out with her fellow conventioneers (is that a word) after dinner. So I went to the Oaks, drove back to Long Beach, picked her up and took her for a little tour of PCH, finally ending up at Huntington Beach. I know, not much of a tour. We ate at Aloha Grill, and Dave met up with us. I was dying because it was Friday, and that kahlua pork plate had my name on it, but I settled for the ahi tuna.

Afterwards, Jen's friends called and said they were hanging out at Rock Bottom. We went home and changed into something comfy and warm, since the night was a little brisk. Since it was Rock Bottom, I didn't care too much about my clothes, I just wore a long sleeved tee, jeans, and flip flops.

I've never been to downtown Long Beach on a weekend, so I had no idea the clubs there were so popular. We had the windows open and I could tell Jen was drooling as we heard the salsa music coming out of the buildings. We got to Rock Bottom, and just hung out for a bit there. Then her friends suggested that we move to one of the clubs on the street. We got to one of the clubs, and we could tell it was a good time inside, because the music was awesome and everyone inside was dancing.

But everyone was dressed up. Girls in short skirts and teeny tiny tops. Looking totally cute. I looked at my old jeans and my flip flops and felt like a troll. Then we saw the sign at the door that said, 'Dress to impress' or something like then, followed by a listing of things not to wear, 2 of which I was wearing.

One of the guys we were with tried talking to the girl at the door to let us in. She said there was a private party. I think it's because me and Jen were dressed like homeless people. OK fine, there was a private party. But still.

So we didn't get into the club. We weren't going to wait til the party was done. We did a little dancing outside and headed back to the car. Her friends decided to call it a night, since they had been out earlier than us. When we went to pay the parking attendant, he was like, 'You guys are done already?' and we said, 'They wouldn't let us in!' And he said, 'Why? How old are you guys?' And we laughed, and replied, 'No, it's not that, we're just not cool enough.' So he gave us a little pity smile and took 2 dollars off our parking fee.

After that, we felt bad. We felt ugly. We felt like we had lost our spark. We used to be queens of the nightlife!!! So we lowered our standards, just to make us feel a little better, just to give us back that dignity that we lost on Pine Street (yes, I know it was a private party, but let me be a drama queen here). We went to Live Bait. The bar down the street from me. Which I've never gone to before, but which has that 'Galaxy Club' feeling to the outside (a bar North of Chicago). We got in, and realized when they put the wristbands on us that it was an 18 and over bar. Little tiny girls prancing around in next to nothing. Guys trying to score with the little girls. Old men there to ogle at little girls. So we were still out of place!

But we had a blast watching everyone dance and mack on each other. (is mack a word people still use? I'm a dinosaur!) And guys actually came up to us asking us to dance! Then we flashed 'single man's kryptonite' - our wedding rings, but thanked them for asking.

I guess I was having a pretty intense convo with Jen, because I had my head down as I was listening and a bouncer came by to make sure I was OK and not drunk. I popped my head up and was like, 'Huh? No! I'm fine! I'm just listening to her talk!' We had a pretty good laugh out of that one.

So, our having gotten an ounce of dignity back, we came home and passed out.

The end.

Posted by Yano at April 5, 2004 06:06 AM

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