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Clubbing Beyond Your Means?


This past weekend was one of my best pal’s twenty-fourth birthday, and man was it one to remember. We like to frequent clubs in our area, but this time we decided to broaden our horizons. We’d heard of this “Club Mansion” that is supposed to be one of the best clubs in the Tidewater area, but that was just word of mouth. We pull up..the club is next to a church and what looked like to be some judicial building. This automatically made me think I might need some special prayer or representation from a lawyer after the night is through.. My irritation was ignited when I discovered that the cost to get into the engagement was twenty dollars, compared to the free before eleven o’clock or ten dollars that I was used to paying. We asked one of the many men dressed in crisp black suits where an ATM was and they frankly replied, “Around the corner.” Thanks for your helpful directions. After a trek around the universe to find a bank, we get back in line to pay and is greeted by young lady who reminded me of Cruella Deville. “Can I interest you ladies in a table?” My friend Jalisa asked, “How much is a table?” “One hundred dollars.” We all looked at each other and collectively responded, “No thanks.” “Are you sure? You all are paying one-hundred just to get in right now? What is another hundred?” Before we could respond to idiotic question another young lady approached us. “How much were you ladies planning to spend tonight? You can start a tab.” We hadn’t even stepped our big toe into the establishment and we were getting hounded about our financial situations. “We really hadn’t really planned on how much..we like to buy one drink at a time,” my friend Jalisa responded. “How does four hundred sound?” I looked at her and responded, “Four-hundred sounds like half of my rent.” “Is this a joke?” my friend Ly’Shawn asked staring at the woman in disbelief. Oh, but the story doesn’t stop there. We get in the club and another woman hounds us about this four-hundred dollar table. The ONLY way I was going to spend that amount on a table was if Jesus himself was sitting at it. Then, I try to drown my irritation in some liquor. The bartender informed me there was a twelve dollar limit on credit cards, so I would have to buy two drinks. I asked him why I could not buy a drink and tip him so the amount would be over twelve. I don’t think he could comprehend me due to his short stature, probably could not hear me all the way down there. So now, I’m walking around looking like a raging alcoholic, with two cups in hand.

The Ladies.

He also took the liberty to take his own tip out of one of my friend’s twenties that she gave him. After that, things began to relax due to my alcohol intake but my happiness was blown when I saw the same woman who had uttered four-hundred dollars out of her mouth standing over my shoulder. “I can make a deal with you guys. Two-hundred.” “We were thinking fifty,” replied Jalisa.That lady looked at us like we had a disgusting disease. Like fifty dollars was not enough to spend at a club. What baffled me was that I was NOT in Los Angeles. Or New York. Where people with celebrity and higher income frequent. I was at a club next to a churchouse. Not even in a main city of Virginia. The telemarketer approach kind of ruined the actual great environment that the club had. I am not one to knock other people’s financial freedom. If you got it like that, flaunt it. But we repeatedly turned down their foolish inquiries. “Yes! I’ll pay four-hundred dollars to sit behind a red rope, with no room to dance, so I can feel like I have made it in life!” Crickets.That’s the weird thing about broadening your horizons. Sometimes you end up at club next to house of the Lord.

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