The strobe light were pulsating every three seconds, alternating between red, blue, white, and green. Weren't rave and pop disco clubs supposed to be like this? Is Spanish-sounding music trying to get in on the trend or is this a hack place meant to attract unaware people? Regardless, I'm in.
I'm in, and there are the classic mamacitas, some with tight skirts, dresses, blouses, others in flowery patterns with tight cuts over their right thighs. I'm breathing heavy already.
The guys...who cares about these macho wannabe wankers anyway?
It's a shame I don't have any money as I would've grabbed a pint. Damn!
I think this scene is typical of every joint. Girls sitting together at tables, trying to take their time on fancy cocktails while their friends sip gently on the g&t's and v&c's, all the while expecting to be courted to the dance floor by some lame-brained greasy-haired beady-eyed unshaven wannabe stud.
It's funny, in a way. We've evolved as a human species, or that's what I'd like to think, and we still do dating and going out the old fashioned way.
I turn around. My mouth opens as my train of thought floats into the wilderness.