Not the right type
I went to one of Vegas's popular nightclubs, Pure, the other night, with my cute, asian friend Candy. So here i am with weird colored hair, a nose ring, and something pretty and stylish but unique, and i'm standing beside the kind of girl every guy there likes. We both go and dance next to these high rollers hoping they'll hook us up with some drinks (because my plastic cup of cranberry and vodka was $10) and they put a glass in her hand. She looks at them and looks at me and decides to give it back because they couldn't be bothered to hook me up as well. I don't expect to be hit on at places like this, and likewise I'm not very attracted to the Gotti look alikes or Steves, but it does feel a little weird looking at hundreds of extremely beautiful people and realizing pretty much no one in the room considers me one. Even the faux-hawked, black and pink outfitted hardcore fakes don't like me. They're hanging on the arms of what I like to call "punk rock Stephanies"-girls with long blonde hair (and maybe a black streak!) and maybe one little tattoo and lip piercing. The ones who probably listen to Hawthorne Heights instead of the Dwarves.
Oh well, I do prefer dive bars, and I don't really go out looking for men. I just want to have a good time and I guess I have to realize going out clubbing means just dancing with my girlfriend.
1 Comments:
fuck that. just go better places! like new york, hint hint.
9:49 AM
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