You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub

Saturday night I went to a party. What is so strange about that you may ask yourself? This was no ordinary party, it was at a club and it was 18 to party 21 to drink. I can’t remember the last time I went to a party that allowed 18 year olds. Wait no that is a lie it was in Albany. Friday nights at this one particular (the name escapes me now) Albany hotspot was 21 and over. Jessica (my old roommate) and I loved it. The place was never overcrowded, no nasty looks from 18 year old girls (oh she must think she fly cause she got good hair – no lie I’ve heard that before) and no young boys coppin a feel while they danced with you. I remember the night that party turned 18 and over very well, because it was the last I went to a party that was 18 and up. If the flyer said that I wasn’t going

How you know a club that allows 18 year olds

• The line is long as hell.
• The cover is usually more than $10
• You give the bouncer your id and who looks at you like "What you don’t have friends your age to hang out with?"
• When you walk into the club a man not only says excuse but feels the need to put his arms on your waist to physically move you
• The club is so crowded that you have no chance of "meeting up" with friends who either arrived early or are running late
• You leave the club dripping in your own sweat.
• You get a special bracelet that alerts the bartenders that you are over 21 and able to drink
• You have at least one underage person during the course of the night beg you to buy them a drink.

If I can think of more I will edit this blog to reflect them. If you can think of more please don’t hesitate to reply and I will add them. Back to my last night in the club story Jess and I went it was everything I knew it to be. I can say I was about 23 years old at the time. The final straw was when Jess and I were sitting (yes we were two of the lucky ones to find a seat) and a strange white man came up to us asked to see our id. We produced our ids for the strange white man and then I said to him now let me see your id. After giving me the nastiest look he showed me his police badge. I’m thinking how dare you give me a nasty look, N*&#a I don’t know you but now you know my name and where I live. That was it from that point on I haven’t been to an 18 and up party. I figured I’m way too old for this shit. The older I became the less patience I began to have with clubs in general. I thought my club days were over and I was just turning into my parents. But even though I am getting older I am not the old fuddy duddy I made myself out to be. (I realize use of the phrase "fuddy duddy" does make me out to be an old person?"

This past Saturday everything happened as I thought it would. I attended the party because it was #1 for charity and #2 it was going to give me an opportunity to connect with some friends from school (Stony Brook). I avoided the long line because the 20 year olds I was traveling with were afraid of traffic and other numerous things that 20 year olds think about. (I’m not mad though I was 20 once myself). We arrived at the spot around 11:45 pm, paid our $12 advanced cover fee, went inside and it was pretty dead. (I’ve been to Prince Hall Mason parties that were more crowded than that) Oh of course at the door the bouncer was nice enough to write a huge W on my hand with a sharpie to inform the bartenders that I am of drinking age I immediately get on the phone and order Dariel (Johnny Gill in the New Edition tribute band) to go to his computer and find a restaurant downtown that was still open at midnight and cheap. After about 15 minutes of trying to yell over the music I told Dariel stay by the phone I will call him back. At this time more people started to arrive, ran into some more friends from Stony Brook and my friends and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The good thing about arriving to the club early when you are too old to be there is seating. My friends and I were able to secure a seat early and it gave us a decent view of the dance floor. I fully expected to go in and be out of the touch with the music but I highly underestimated how much. The first hour of music play the only song I recognized was "Shake that Laffy Taffy". Of course all of the music played sounded very similar to that song. I still can’t identify some of the shit they called music. About an hour into the party the gods threw me a bone and the dj said, "Let’s take it back to the old school!" I heard the familiar bass beat of Bell Biv DeVoe’s Poison and was elated. Of course I head to the dance floor and I ran into Mercella who at 23 was just as excited to hear BBD as I. 23 is a good age for being at the club, you are starting to appreciate old music but you’re still up to date with what is current. After that they played Slick Rick then they went into Biggie Smalls. Why did one of my 20 year old friends call Biggie Small’s Get Money whack? It was shock! Major disbelief! I wanted to hold my chest like Fred Sanford and yell "I’m coming to meet you Elizabeth!!!" "This is the big one!!!" Who would disrespect one the greatest rappers ever? Someone that was not in high school from 1994 – 1996 would not understand the importance of the Notorious B.I.G.

After the very short old school set they went into some reggae that I enjoyed and then back to the hip hop I couldn’t understand. At this point my friends wanted to leave and I was grateful. I swear I lost pigmentation from sweating so much. I would love to know who coined the term sweat the black off because I did that night. I mean I did when I came home that night the handle for my white purse was a shade of brown very close to my own.

I have made this entry long enough. I will address two other issues: underage drinking (which I never participate in or encourage) and meeting men in the club at a late time. There are more pressing things going on now. BET awards of course.