I have never understood why people, willingly, dress up in the middle of the night and risk the horrors of the street just to go squash themselves in a poorly ventilated space with noisy, sweaty strangers who are farting 80% of the time and masking the odour with heavy smoking. Perhaps it would be fun if they could even converse with these people invading their personal spaces, but the ear-splitting sounds from the speakers are a hindrance, and in fact, can lead to death by brain aneurysm. You keep shouting, but the person can’t hear you, then your throat starts to hurt…but you don’t have the mind to buy a glass of water as every drink, including bottled water, is ridiculously over-priced. It does not help that you have to stand up the whole time and there is no food whatsoever, not even small puff-puff.
Last night, a couple of girlfriends and I went to Crossroads at Eko Hotel for drinks. From there, we decided to head to Cubana, a club in Victoria Island. I had been to Cubana in Abuja years ago and was basically just curious to see what the Lagos branch was like. Normally, I wouldn’t even go to a club at all, but I was focused on having a good time with friends.
First, we had to queue to drive into the venue, then stand at the side to make sure the valet wouldn’t mess up the car while parking . Then we were ushered to the VIP section where we waited about 10 minutes before the ushers with their glow lamps brought the champagne and Henessey.
There were so many people there: all packed in very close together, in constant motion. I got the chance to sit on one of the cushions; barely two minutes after sitting, the guy trying to butt-grind a very bootylicious girl right next to me, while holding his champagne flute, spilled some of the contents on me. Surprisingly, the splash felt rather refreshing, as I was already drowning in so much sweat and I was already contemplating taking of my bra to fan myself and occasionally dab my forehead.
I looked around. My eyes caught someone and her daddy, prancing about on the floor. The dude looked about 50 or more. He just did not blend in. At first, I imagined he was just a sweet dad sharing her daughter’s first club experience with her, but then he grabbed her butt, and buried his face in her heaving bosom. Hian. I looked around some more and it was clear that most of the older people around were frowning, rather than smiling. They looked like they were bidding time. The younger ones where the ones having fun.
Next, my eyes caught a dude watching me. It was clear he had been regarding me for a while, trying to catch my attention. Perhaps, because it was too loud to hear what anyone was saying, he chose to communicate his desire, to maybe be with me, with creepy dance moves. This dude was a full-blown adult, not younger than 30, still acting like a pervy child, all because he was in a club. Of course, I ignored him.
After about three hours of just sitting in my own little corner, absorbing the fluorescent fractals lighting up the room while observing the people and asking myself: “WTF are you really doing here Nkem?” I came up with certain conclusions: One, you can actually appear to be a great dancer if you danced sitting down in a club ; two, you will never enjoy the club if you are a music lover, as none of the songs are ever played to the end, and if they are, it’s the weird version; and lastly, but most important, stay away from the club if you are over 28 because it is no longer for you!
While I can understand why a teenager or someone in their early or mid twenties could argue that clubbing is a fun thing to do, and I also understand that everyone should be able to shake off the stresses and strains of the working week at a nightclub no matter what their age, it “behooves” me to see adults in their 30s and 40s surrounded by teenagers and twenty somethings in clubs. I believe that the moment you are past the age of 28, you should take your dancing shoes off and calm the f*** down. At that point, you should have better standards and insight, enough to know that the clubs generally see their customers as cash cows and you have better things to do with money and your time.
Drop the Peter Pan syndrome. Stop depriving yourself of sleep and competing with the younger ones in the bid to hold on to your youth. Move on with your life! This is not to say that at 28 and over you should not have a night life. No. Instead of going to club, go to a lounge or a bar. These options usually have cheaper drinks, and you can drink them while sitting down with your friends, actually hearing what your friends are saying. And if you are that type who just likes loud music and a crowd, you can invite friends over to your house for a house party. House parties are better than clubs in every single way: you can choose the music, you can buy cheap drinks, you can have soft seating, you can have food and you can go to your room and sleep when sleep starts to call.
What is your opinion? Do you also believe that everyone 28 years and over throw in the towel and ditch clubbing?