Why'd you do that?

It took me a nice nap to recover from the hurt of my Saturday night.
I napped for four hours, woke up at 7 in the morning, and rolled out to church... where I served the purpose of a sad, lonely zombie for an hour.

I then sped home to catch the final games of the Confederation's Cup.
Soccer has always managed to get my mind off issues... especially when the sport's lovers in my life and I get to spend time chatting and analyzing the situations.
It's fantastic clarity... it helps ground me... and remember that I do matter in the lives of some people... that I AM part of circles.

By the time night rolled by, I was fine... fixing a nightclub outing for Darcy and Baby Bennet for Monday night.
I hardly ask for favors... because it makes me feel stupid... but since it was Twiggy, she was... almost eager to help me out.
When she saw I wasn't adding my name to the list, she was compelled to ask what the deal was (come on, it's Twiggy... she HAS to know everything).
I told her the deal, and asked her if she still thought it was a good idea to add my name.
Noooo! AnoMALIE, I recommend you do not go tomorrow. It's too hard... I could not deal with that.
See, Boom! That's what I thought.
I know this girl often drives me bananas, and I talk shit about her and her wonky ways... but she HAS always had this weird admiration for me. She has NEVER talked ill about me (of my sister on the other hand, well... ha! We know about that shit)... so I do have love for her... and some trust.
So... she proceeded to help me out... more than I thought she would.
*Fiance* said to just go and say you're on HIS list... everything is taken care of. If you end up feeling up for joining them, you'll have no problem ;)

I relayed the message to Darcy, and when asked if I wasn't going to join them after all, I remembered Baby Bennet asking me to please join them at the club as I hastily said goodbye to her that horrible Saturday night.
I'm a girl of my word... and Baby Bennet is cool... and adding an extra girl to a party always helps.
So I agreed to go.

True to my soul, I hit the club looking like Elvira... prepared for... for... the worst.
Get them in, toast, jet.
I imagined the entire night to be awkward... but it was not. At least not for me.
At one point in the night, there was so much people traffic in the hallway, BB and I had to stop and wait for the oncoming traffic to pass before following Darcy.
As I momentarily distracted myself with a glowstick, I was caught off-guard by the most violent push to my right shoulder... damn near giving me whiplash (it did give me a bruise).
"DON'T BLOCK THE HALLWAY!!"
I was so shocked to see a fucking idiot MAN i.e. security guard had manhandled me so viciously, I was silent... on the verge of tears, actually.
Does this motherfucker think I'm a transvestite? Some MAN to push me like that?! WHAT THE FUCK?!
And that's when I see Baby Bennet's little figure turn around and scream "HEY! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!"
I had to think of how angry I was in order to keep from crying.
She's defending me... oh my....
I was so touched, I don't know how I didn't just lose my composure and start sobbing like a baby.

I stayed the remainder of time Darcy and Baby Bennet remained at the club... no more manhandling... just people watching and chatting.

As the elevator doors opened to their floor of the parking garage, I wished Baby Bennet a safe, and fun remainder of visit to the States.
She frowned a little, I hugged her, and waved goodbye as she stood outside the elevator... waving as the doors closed.

Girl, I got your back for life. Thank you.

Not so free in that zone

Well, I guess after last night I can mark three things off my "To do before I die" list:
1) Check out a gay bar.
2) See a drag show.
3) Get my ass grabbed/fondled by a female stranger.

Now, honestly, none of that has ever been on my list (no shit, Sherlock), but it all happened last night.

Before the bar thing happened, I accompanied Chase to her band practice, and I was astonished by the similarity between one of her band mates and Ray Romano's voice. I mean, the likeness is uncanny.
The entire time, I found myself thinking "Keep talking!!! I feel like I'm in the presence of Ray! I miss Ray..."
I also wanted him to keep talking, or anyone else for that matter, because I was stuck listening to the one other person there who's not part of the band (but thinks she is), the wife of... I think he's a basist?
She talked... and talked... and talked... even when all I would do would be smile... or nod... or look in her direction.

She was trying to force me to drink a Bud Light... but she couldn't hear me saying "I don't like beer!!" Instead, she thought I didn't want to drink because I felt bad about "wasting her money."
She leaned in to me and screamed:
"Listen!! I make in one day, what you make in a year!! SO DRINK UP!! Don't feel bad about wasting my money."
I smiled... held back my urge to grab the open beer, turn it upside down on her lap, then get up and leave... but instead, I screamed "I. DON'T. LIKE. BEER!!!!"
"What kind of person doesn't like beer?!"
"Umm... me."
So she went on and drank... I think maybe 7?
At her 7th, she then proceeded to talk to me about what a sham marriage is. She told me never to get married, unless I found that ONE guy who'll still give me butterflies in my stomach each time he kisses me... then it's ok to get married.
I nodded.
Then she went off and talked about boobs.
How big boobs are great... how she loves her boobs... and how people thought she got her boobs only to call attention.
She then goes:
"If I wanted to call attention, don't you think I could just do this..."
She grabbed her left tit and proceeded to lick it... and I mean lick that thing like a hungry baby calf .

O...k....
What do you do when you see a 37-year-old woman licking her left boob in front of you?

I was more than ecstatic when it was time to leave the place.
Sure, bummed I wasn't going to hear Ray Romano's voice anymore... but fucking alleviated that I was no longer going to see this lady do weird shit to herself in my presence (if you want to do weird shit, do it in the privacy of your own home... or I guess a club).

Anyway, from there, we called our group of friends and asked where they were.
Where were they?
Free Zone.
And a little hammered.

I was reluctant at first (here I have family members constantly thinking I bat for the other team because I refuse to get a boyfriend... and now... if by some off-chance they see me walking into a gay bar... I can only imagine the damn roaring rumors this action will spark), but seeing the state DiabetesType1 Friend was in (she greeted us a block away from the club, because that's where we found parking), Chase and I decided to go in and check on the other two girls inside (Chase said she heard FutureDentist Friend screaming "Woooo-hooo!!" over the phone... so it was safe to assume she was tipsy as well).

En el nombre del Padre, del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo... God, here I go...

The bouncer at the club was a lot more cautious about letting me in the place than any other bouncer I've encountered.
He checked my ID meticulously... then made me remove my glasses... inspected my ID some more, and finally let me in.
Was it because I was smiling in person?

We then got in and saw why FutureDentist Friend was screaming: a drag show was going on.

Yes... we were up close and personal with the drag queens.
I must say... those guys have great make-up skills... and it saddened me to see three of the four had better bodies than me (How can they control their boobs like that?! And no, I'm not talking padded bras... I'm talking BOOBS).

As we stood there watching the show, some fucker decided to sit next to me and smoke his damn Kools...
That, along with the shot and Mai-Tai DiabetesType1 Friend bought me, made up my mind to get the hell out of there and hit the dance floor with the buddies.

So we danced...
And danced...
and danced.

It was comfortable because there weren't any guys trying to rub their crotch on you... or even staring at you. Well, actually, there were only two guys doing that... and I'm guessing they go to the club to do exactly that, bother the straight girls that only dance with their female friends to have a good time being dorks (there was no one to impress, so you know, whatever. I've never really felt that before... except maybe a couple of family get-togethers where I've danced my ass off like that).

Anyway, I noticed gay dudes are pretty touchy feely.
They won't think twice about moving you over by grabbing you firmly in the waist with both hands.

Well, then... thanks, dude... I guess... that's better than you poking my ribs with your elbow... I suppose.

And the ladies?
Well... there were a good amount of chicks that looked straight to me. Most chicks that weren't straight were there with their girlfriends... so there was not much to worry about.
But of course, since you're dealing with AnoMALIE and her shitty luck, of course she was going to be the one to get groped by an overly aggressive lesbo.

I was standing there... minding my own business,

Man... they have a pole in the middle of the dance floor!!

when all of a sudden I feel a small, slender hand grabbing the small of my back.

Whoa, there, buddy, if you want me to move, just push me!

The hand then proceeds to caress my entire left ass cheek in an S motion down, and when it reached the bottom, she cupped her hand, then spanked me lightly.

HEYYYYYYYYYYY!!

Instead of screaming, or punching her--like I would have done, to anyone grabbing my ass, had I been my usual self... or had I not downed alcohol at the speed of light upon entering the establishment-- I stood there like a deer caught in headlights.

Did I... did she... I got... Oh my God...

I just turned to Chase and said
"That girl just touched my ass..."

So what did we do?
We went to the very far corner of the dance floor and made an impenetrable circle where we danced until the back of our necks were soaked in sweat. I took the spot directly in front of the wall... so no sneaky bastards (female or male... what a hassle) could get behind me (why must I have such an irresistible ass?! To the wrong people, of course... 'cause you know, we're talking about ME. My ass could never be irresistible to someone like, say, Cristiano Ronaldo).

So there you have it... I went to a gay bar... and while it was fun to see guys weren't being your typical creeps who want to slip GHB into your drink or ass rape you on the dance floor, it was a little annoying to have to watch yourself from the ladies. It was also depressing to see the good-looking drag queens... they do a better job at being a girl than I ever will.
:(

Just sad...
Now if you don't mind... I gotta go shower...
My poor little ass is just a tad bit disturbed...
the Body Pump instructors didn't warn me about this.

You mean that's not cool?

Call me crazy... but getting advice (and taking it) from my underage baby sister and her equally underage best friend on proper nightclub etiquette/attire just seems wrong.

How the... you know what, AnoMALIE... who cares how they know. Shut up, listen, and I guess it'll work. I'm a nerd, what do I know?

On another note: I hate Bambi (the car, not the movie).
Today, a day Chase needed a ride, guess where my whore of a car was? Not in my driveway, and that's what matters.
Stupid ass car... I can't wait till they sell that bitch and my parents finally stop whoring out my damn vehicle.

I'm pissed.
(and yesterday's game, while the Suns did win, is reposible for a great deal of my anger. I'm not watching basketball anymore... I'm done. I hate jackasses that are jealous of Nash's greatness. Cocksuckers)