So i didn't quite get into the whole "Ghetto bling bling schabang" outfit. As usual for situations like these i choose the next best thing = black top + jeans. I figured my once talked about PeepToeSlingBacks i purchased a few months back at my friends' store: Gossips, were rarely worn and deserved a night out.
However, they ARE an accident waiting to happen and having to walk on anything but carpet feels more like a balancing act on chopsticks.
But i was excited about what the night might have installed for me. It had been ages since i was out on a week day and i had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be temporarily granted a few inches in height. And being the eager beaver that i was, i chose to get ready super early and spent the next 3 hours wasting my time in front of the tv and watching random YouTube videos whilst Chook was at a company dinner.
By the time we arrived it was as if i had stepped onto unfamiliar grounds.
The entrance was littered with faces that looked much younger than i remembered. And as if i had walked into a marked territory, i suddenly felt out of place. But then again it had been at least 5 months since my last Ghetto Heaven visit. And although not a frequent Zouk clubber anymore, the usual pit stop prior to entering was to have a beer or two at Terrace Bar.
Both Chook and i had no idea who was ACTUALLY coming out. Back in the day it was usual to see the SAME faces week in and week out. But that night it seemed like none of our friends were in any mood to be out.
And even though BBoyBrian had managed to get us a table it seemed silly to hog it if it were only the two of us drinking. So without hesitation Chook gave the table away and it didn't take us very long to admit that we really couldn't be arsed to go inside either. So instead of booty shaking and lip synching to familiar tunes played over and over we opted to chill at Terrace for the whole evening with BBoyBrian and Mac.
And just like old times we ordered the famous "Cheesy Fries" that usually are accompanied with various dipping sauces. BBoyBrian has a habit of finding the ultimate cheese soaked chip and watching it drip down. And just how a child likes to play with his food, he flings the cheese around the chip mimicking a helicopter before shoving it into his mouth.
But as we drank our beers and chatted about random things it dawned on me that i much prefer sitting back having a few drinks with individuals whom i can have a conversation with rather than having my ear canal yelled at and me constantly having to say, "sorry... i didn't hear what you were saying" and trying my best not to smear bullets of sweat as they attempt to inch closer.
As they say, it's Quality NOT Quantity that makes the difference.
But then again, having started my intoxicated adventures down the clubbing scene from the puny age of 13, i can now say i've been there and done that. But Laziness continues to follow my shadow around and nothing gives me more pleasure than to hibernate and stay clear of crowds. More specifically those rude, obnoxious little wankers who think they're All That and a Bag of Chips!
Seriously, how hard is it to be polite and courteous to not only elders but to everyone. Yes! The world doesn't evolve around JUST you! [YOU: meaning nobody in particular].
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