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| Bitch - my 1st gay club experience
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Category: Funny Stuff |
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Posted by:
kellyc
Date:
1/21/2008 8:02:00 AM
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| About kellyc: |
| Gender: |
Female |
| Age: |
34 |
| Country: |
South Africa |
| City: |
Gauteng |
| Description: |
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[ view profile ] |
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So it was Saturday night and the sisters, namely Ricks, Greg and I, went to a gay club, appropriately called ‘Bitch’.
Now, I love my sisters and would walk over hot coals for them, but there is only so much that a straight girl can take. Subjecting myself to the company of three-hundred drop dead beautiful and shirtless men all of whom sport muscular physiques and wouldn’t notice me if I hung naked from a trapeze, would be taking things a little far don’t you think? With hindsight, I don’t know why I took such effort in getting ready. I never managed to turn a hair on anyone’s head, least of all the whole head; so a sack would have sufficed for me. Somehow that’s part of the fun of it though - dressing to loud music together, sipping on a glass of chilled wine, and fighting tooth and nail for my rightful place in front of the bathroom mirror until satisfied with the overall effect. One by one, we’d emerge from the house in a cloud of perfume and sheer fabulousness.
As I entered the club, I was awe struck at the scenery. It ranged from several Mr.Universes to an assortment of drag queens with long and unfairly lean legs.
I couldn’t help smirking to myself that despite their totally cellulite free silhouettes, they’d never manage to get the waist right.
I’d lost Ricky somewhere in the crowd, so decided to take a walk as I watched people dance in amongst the green laser lights and billows of white smoke.
I walked up the stairs, only to come face to face with a queen in a white sequined dress that resembled a disco ball. Her hair was huge and Afro and could’ve mingled perfectly well into the Jackson 5 had it not been so shockingly white. She’d absurdly long glittery eyelashes, was perfectly made up and I took all of this in within a 3 second time frame. Mesmerised by this creature, my appreciation took just long enough for her to read my expression. She squealed in delight and ran her perfectly manicured hand through my hair before moving along on her massive platforms.
I giggled, and spotted two of my other sisters - Riaan and Kurt, dressed to kill in two of Riaan’s original creations.
Riaan’s one of life’s inspirations. He’s afraid of nothing and has tried everything he’s ever wanted to do in life. He’s the consummate host, and often holds dinner parties complete with multi-coloured cocktails at the door, exotic hors d’eurves and platters of hand made food. Riaan could make your grandmother ashamed of her cooking.
My favourite memory of him was attending my very first of his many soirees and being led outside to a little stone garden. One by one we were given a candle to hold as he manoeuvred us into a tight little circle.
Placing himself in the middle, he held his candle, closed his eyes and lifted his head skywards. I don’t know what I was expecting, but …’I hereby call up the spirit of Sandtonnnnn’ was just not it.
Riaan had a little kitten at that stage, which was given a rather French sounding name. It had its own mini sleeper-couch which would fold out into its bed.
This thing held prized place by the fridge and the kitten would perch neatly in its chair. Once, it made a tiny peep.
‘No darling’ Riaan said, as he whisked up a heavenly dessert called ‘resistance is futile’. Let me tell you, it was.
‘Don’t ask daddy, if you want anything, you know that you’re to use your credit card’ he continued.
I laughed at how delicious his mind was, and whisked the kitten away in a tight squeeze.
I’ve often marvelled at what excellent karma Kurt must have considering the universe saw fit to give him Riaan as a flat-mate.
My favourite story of our Kurt, was the one where he came crawling home, trashed, after a great night out.
He leopard crawled to his room in his furry, yellow and black bumble bee outfit, expertly thrown together by Riaan the day before.
This was the very next thing the world heard, but Riaan got a special rendition, seeing that his room was next door:
‘Memmmmoorrrriiiiies, all alooonnnnne in the moooonlight… has the moon lost her memmmmmmory? I am standing alone….’
If Riaan thought that he’d heard the end of it, he was horribly mistaken, for shortly after, came the highly unamused, ‘Excuyuuuse me!!! Just how long does it take to get a glass of OROS in this place?’
But back to Club Bitch.
I followed Riaan to the dance floor and he leaned over to me. ‘Who invited Vanilla Ice?’ he smirked, and I turned and looked straight at a man who sported an outrageous fringe. We ventured downstairs to another dance floor and as we mustled our way through the bodies, I saw a puppy look alike from behind.
Rickels miraculously reappeared at my side, and I grabbed his arm in excitement.
‘That guy!! He looks just like Puppy!’
‘Where?’ he asked, casting his eyes into the crowds.
‘Bwaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!! It issss Puppy!’ I squealed in recognition, and bounced over to him to give him a hug.
‘Sweety! How weird! I was just telling Ricks how much you looked like you, when you turned around…and you were you!’
I laughed, because as I was regaling my story, Puppy was unconsciously mirroring my facial expressions and enthusiasm entirely.
He gave me a big hug, took me under his wing and began a terribly cute attempt at setting me up, despite my protests that I hadn’t seen a single straight man there.
‘Him Honey, He’s straight!’ he said, nodding to a guy sitting against the wall, with dark glasses on.
‘No man, how can you tell? The man’s a Brad Pitt clone for crying out loud, he’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!’
To my horror, my words sent him marching in a beeline to our target.
I squirmed back into the old me, and observed in awe, the limitless world that a Tommy Hilfiger model moves in.
Never would I have considered approaching such a man, but he had a word with the guy and beckoned me over. I had no choice but to go; yet even through the dark glasses I could tell he wasn’t interested and I wanted more than anything to scurry away into a corner like a cockroach.
The man was sending out vibes I tell you and as I neared, he took my arm.
‘I’ll talk to you some other time’, he said in a totally brush off voice.
I hadn’t time to feel anything at all, but was verging on the question of just how much rejection is healthy for one woman to take in the period of a week, when a blonde woman appeared at my side. I noticed that she was standing in my personal space bubble and well, looking at me? I was completely relieved that Puppy took charge.
‘Oh fuck! Are you the girlfriend? This is so totally my fuck up – you see my friend here is single and.. well he.. is straight…and you? You’re beautiful.’ He took a quick pause, ‘Sorry for you honey’ was clearly aimed in my direction.
I had to give it to her. The sistah knew how to get herself out of a situation, but that didn’t get me out of addressing the issue and I did so as best I could.
‘Look sweety! Woman to woman, never leave your man unattended in such a predatory environment again’ I advised her in a lame attempt at redemption, and then did scuttle away like a cockroach to lose myself on the dance floor.
It was there that I fully realised how unready I was for Puppy’s tuition in how to bag your man.
‘Hah ha ha no babe, I’m going out on a limb here and introducing you to all these straight men, and you’re dancing…well..like you are..heh heh’
‘Uh, Sorrah, but I wouldn’t exactly call that last little encounter ‘introducing me to a straight man’ and what exactly’s wrong with my dancing beyach?’
He wore a sultry Marilyn Monroe expression, narrowed his eyes, pouted the lips and did a slooowww and lingering pelvic thrust in example of how it’s done.
‘Uh…yesss…have another drink luv! This one’s on me’
The dance floor was cleared for a drag cabaret, which was a first for me.
I was amused that the characters they adopted were the kind of wholesome women who’d sing to our boys in the 2nd World War. The crowds expressed huge appreciation and as I clapped along, I felt like a foreigner in a strange world.
It wasn’t mine, albeit irresistibly sparkly and glittery where you could be anyone you wanted and not be judged. I feel an amazing spirit of oneness in the gay community and haven’t met one person who hasn’t gone through major self-analysis and slain more demons than I ever have.
They give warmth that I haven’t felt in any other circles, which constantly draws me back for more. They’re the strongest, most honest support group a girl could ask for. They cry with you when your heart is aching, even though they warned you were going to get hurt if you kept opening your heart to the man who broke it.
They crack you up with their razor sharp wit until you’re massaging your cheeks and begging for mercy. They snuggle up with you and watch ‘love story’, and then go to the kitchen and whip you up a fat free snack, containing not a trace of artificial anything. They blow dry your hair for you before you go out on a hot date, and remind you as you leave, that confidence is the sexiest thing known to man.
They SMS you halfway through your date to ensure that you’re safe, and most of all having the fun that you deserve.
They shop with you for hours on end, and tell you ‘yes, your bum does look big in that, and what in God’s name you were thinking even trying on those shoes?’
But most of all, they know how to have fun, and Goddaymn! These sisters are doing it for themselves.
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