Friday, March 02, 2007

AKAs do it again

I'm trying to order drinks at the VIP bar at the AKA's party at the Forum on Thursday. On my right, a guy and his friend buy 10 bottles of Moet. There's one bartender who is opening all of these bottles and pouring the champagne. A line of people wait to order drinks. A bar-back starts pouring Moet so the lone bartender can help other customers. The guy next to me asks if he can buy a $600 bottle of Cristal for $400.

I look at him like he’s crazy, and so does the bartender. First, the bar is swamped and we don’t time for you to ask dumb questions and try to haggle. You’re not buying a used car. Second, if you can't afford to spend $600 on a bottle of champagne, I'm guessing you don't need to spend $400 either. Stop trying to prove you have more money than the next guy, order you a Heineken, and go sit down somewhere.

While we're talking about the dumb things guys do at the club, I must unleash my monthly lecture on rude male behavior in nightclubs. Guys, why do you grab on women? That's straight-up ignorant and inexcusable. I don't care how drunk you are. And why is it that if a woman forcefully removes your hand or tells you not to touch her, you get your feelings hurt and talk loud to prove your manhood? If you really want to be a man, stop acting like little boys, and be polite.

Back to the party.

After ordering drinks and walking through the club, my girl, several of her friends and I carve out a niche in front of the bar. The club is so crowded that the overhead ducts are sweating and dripping. Groups of Omegas bark. Pockets of guys stand around the bar buying shots for each other and jumping around. Couples take to the floor. Every now and then, a couple of fraternity members do a few steps. DJ Stacey Blackman plays a mix of old-school and top 40. When he puts on E.U.'s "Da Butt," the crowd goes crazy. Even guys are poking their rumps out and shaking it.

We dance in a circle. A girl who's tore-down drunk walks past, does a double-take and says "heeyyy!" She starts dancing with us. She drops to the floor, winds her pelvis, and you can imagine the rest. After a while, she moves on. We keep dancing. Polite guys ask if they can join. Rude ones try to jump in. A nutcase stares with his mouth open.

Gotta love the club.