Seriously, What’s With All the Overly Aggressive Men in the Club Nowadays?
If you don’t want to dance, why did you come to the club?
As my friend and I like to make clear to men, it’s not that I don’t want to dance. In fact, I want to dance the night away! Just not with you…
I’d also like to make it clear from jump that I’m not the type of chick you’ll find in the club every weekend, dressed up in the tightest wannabe Herve Leger dress and in heels so high that I can do nothing but two step while I sip my drink. Actually, I’m the type who will wear something bright with lots of jewelry (that will fling off me when I dougie), and will be the tacky chick in the corner trying to take off wedge heels so I can act a fool in the flats I brought with no pain or trouble. After a busy couple of weeks of work, I’ll make my way out, ready to hear some eclectic and popular music and have a good time dancing with my homey-omey (my friend). Should be fun, right?
Or maybe not, because I’ve been noticing a ratchet trend: What’s up with the overly aggressive and thirsty guys in some clubs nowadays trying to low-key assault you when you just came to have a good time? This past Saturday, all in one place, I had a guy try to forcefully turn me around to dance on his lap after I basically ignored his signals to “juke” on him (even though I was dancing with him face to face for like two minutes…), as well as another who kept dancing up behind me though I was standing up straight and not moving. I literally had to step out of the way from his freakiness. I don’t mind dancing on a guy from time to time, especially if he’s hot, but seriously, that can’t be me on every song every time I go out.
Then, I saw another trifling guy harass a woman around the place as she tried to get away from him after he touched her backside twice when they were dancing together. She was so shaken up that it pissed ME off. The same guy got in my friend’s face and yelled at her when she said she didn’t want to dance. When he got too close and a little too aggressive, I pushed him like he stole something. I’m pretty much known not to make the best decisions in heated moments (remember that whole domestic violence situation I jumped in?), but luckily, whether he was drunk or just crazy, the look on my face (and the fact that we were the same height) kept this fool from trying anything else. After that incident, it was clear that it was time to go home before someone caught a black eye and I caught a case (or that black eye).