Sunday, August 23, 2009
chronicals of hicksville - going clubbing
Three years in this Hicktown, and I had never been clubbing here before. In fact, it's been a while since I had last been clubbing anywhere. One of the signs of old age is the tendency to avoid loud noises. Don't get me wrong, I have been boozing in Hicktown before, but in pubs. Dodgy ones even. (sidenote: this post reminds me - I still owe a part 3 to the boozing stories in the link). Labels: stories
So when my friend Mel asked me to come along on Friday, I jumped at the chance of doing something new in this Hicktown (which usually equates to an awesome story) and also getting some booze into my system. Also because I was assured there wouldn't be any fengtau music since her friend from KL was the guest DJ for the night.
The story starts off in my house when I get out of the shower and I realise I don't have anything to wear to the club. Now, this is not like some woman going, "Oh my God I have nothing to match my new handbag!" This was me, literally not having anything suitable to wear to a club. Most of my wardrobe is in my house back in KL. Most days I wear old t-shirts to work - my job calls for it. On more formal days when I have to attend a meeting of sorts, I wear a standard company issued work shirt. Only very rarely do I wear a long sleeve shirt to work. If and when I go out at night, I usually throw on a nice t-shirt.
I make do - I find the most casual long sleeve work shirt that I have, and a pair of khakis and decide to wear that. Heck, I looked like I was going to work instead of a club. See, where I come from - the standard dress code for a club is a collared shirt (or at least a polo shirt). Heck, I've even seen people denied entry into a club because they were wearing sports shoes.
So how the fuck was I to know, that in this stupid jakun infested town, there is apparently no dress code for clubs?! I mean - none at all. I walk into the club (no cover charge even) and the first bloke I see is wearing bermudas and a pair of Nike Shox!!! FUCKING bermudas!! In a club! What the fuck, man? I mean...the last time I went clubbing, my friend was celebrating his birthday and two of his guests weren't allowed in because they were wearing round neck t-shirts!
I walk around to the front looking for Mel's table and as I pass the masses, I notice a Snoop Dogg wannabe wearing a singlet (YES, A FUCKING SINGLET) with a huge ass gold chain hanging from his neck. Never mind about the gold chain, the dude was wearing a singlet! In a club!! I walk around I see another dude wearing a pair of flourescent green Crocs!! Crocs!! In a club!! What the hell is going on here?!?
Nothing of note happened the rest of the night, partly because I had good company and partly because the music was great (did I not mention the DJ was a KL bloke?). But then sometime around 1.45am, when our bucket of beer was almost finished, and I was going to order summore, Mel came over to me and said:
"Hey, don't order too much more"
"Why? Night's still young.."
"Errr...no it's not. Forgot to tell you....they close at 2"
"TWO? TWO?!?!? What the fuck? Why?!"
"Don't fucking know man.."
"Club that closes at two. TWO! What the fuck man...."
Why am I even surprised? Every aspect of life in this Hicktown has been a great big culture shock. Yes, I am pretentious. Yes, I am elitist. Yes, I come from the big city and yes, I mock these stown (small town) folk.....but I should be used to this shit by now. If there has been a constant it is the fact that this is one country, but the people are worlds apart.
We have TWO Starbucks, TWO cinemas, TWO Secret Recipes, a Sushi King and one of those fancy doughnut places..
Don't play play I tell you...
We were dilly-dallying about at first, takut kena halau, but finally went ahead.
Let us in, no problem. =D
They have all that in Midvalley alone. LOL.
i *hope* it's no Seremban because it sounds like it...except Seremban has three cinemas. :P