Thanks to everyone who's voted for me several times. Please keep the party going!
Now to the topic at hand.
Folks in DC are rude. Not all the way rude, like if I'm inebriated and falling all over myself, people will help out (more on that later), but folks just bump into you with no niceties. No excuse me, pardon me... nothing.
So we're at Love. I'm getting manhandled by everyone. This one chick stepped on my shoe, then turned around and looked at me like I did something wrong. I gave her the Bernie Mac "Bust A Move" face and she swiftly retreated.
All in all, I didn't bitch about people knocking me over. I didn't even notice how irritated I was by it, until a grown ass man tried to pull it with me. My feet had been hurting for about 15 minutes, so it was REALLY time to go. We were in the doorway on the way to the stairwell to get the hell outta the club. It's completely gridlocked. All of a sudden a big 6'2, cock diesel dude starts pummeling his way through the crowd. This dude is not security.
Me: Excuse you
Dude: Stupid look on his face
Me: I'm standing right here, you need to wait like everybody else
Dude: Smirk on his face, while still squeezing past me to go nowhere but right in front of me
Me: Pushed dude off of me. I don't need his pecks on my breast or my back while I'm trying to get outta the club
Dude: Gets his bearing together than swells up like he's about to hit me
P: Snapped on this dude from behind me and was like you're not about to hit her
Security: Late on the job is pushing dude forward and pushing us back
Dude: walks down a few stairs then comes back and pours his drink all over us (mostly on me).
Now I have Tangeray smelling shit in my hair (Thank God I don't have a perm) and I don't even really remember what happened after that. I saw some girl taking photos of the altercation (a woman after my own heart I see). P swelled up on her too. I know I jumped about 5 feet from where I was standing and two security guards held me back. I know me, P and Chanel took turns holding each other back (Women always put the safety of their friends before themselves. I'm sitting here thinking "I can't let Chanel fight this grown man, he'll kill her," but then I'm thinking "But I'd whoop his ass though," LOL!).
I know I ended up in the hallway calling the security guard a punk cause he could stand up to a 5'5, 135 pound woman, but couldn't do shit about that man who poured his drink on me.
We walked out of the club so fast we forgot our coats in coat check and these security bastards (different security bastards from earlier) would not let us back in. This dude took our coat checks (while we stand in the cold) and brought us our jackets.
Love is completely different from Dream even though it's the same building. The amount of hoodness and just overall disrespect for women is baffling and disconcerting (Maybe because it was homecoming weekend, probably not). I've never appreciated the Chicago party scene more than I did that night. Don't get me wrong, we got it crackin' at the club, but that type of ending to the evening was unneccesary.