1 and 2 What I Learned My First Night Clubbing In DC
So when I first moved to DC, I was pretty down, not because I was not happy to be there, but because I had to get out of VA (#EscapeVA). I was crashing at a buddies in exchange for Date Coaching. More specifically I was crashing on a buddies couch. To be honest he was a guy I didn’t really trust but, when I was scrambling and did not know what to do he was there fore me, so I will always be grateful for that.
To cheer me up he invited me to a poker game which a friend had invited him to. I almost didn’t go, because I had never played poker (I’ve always had an aversion to gambling, yet I packed everything I needed and left the rest of what I own and made a sudden flight to this nation’s capital, the irony is not lost on me.)
He convinced me and I went, and the players taught me the rules as I played. You guessed it! I won, turns out poker really is about reading people, that, I am an expert on, I mean they call me ‘Truth’.
So I won a Hondo. After which my friend, his host and I went to Flash. This would be my first night out really clubbing. If you know Flash, you know they play techno and people usually dance to this, by themselves, if you know me and have read the Dance Game blog, you know I find this unacceptable.
I wondered around the club for a while and then I saw her, tall, thicc, short hair, glasses, mmm my favorite an 8. I noticed another black guy dancing with her, or rather dancing near her, and I decided ‘this won’t do, this won’t do at all!’
So I strode up and started dancing and got close enough to say “why is everyone making room for Jesus?” She laughed and I smiled back, we made butt to lower ab contact and I put my hands on her hip, she grabbed my hands and the other guy left, I think, I stopped paying attention, all I paid attention to was the soft pressure of her big booty against my abs and dick. (I said she was tall.)
Definition: Make Room for Jesus: An admonition to unmarried couples to refrain from physical intimacy, such as when dancing.
Again if you have read ‘Dance Game” this is time to talk to her. I said she was sexy, she said it back, then she said she was married, and waited for a reaction, I gave her none, because “Truth is the name and passing shit tests is my game.” She then went on to say she is XXXXX and is in an open relationship. I hugged her, and we exchanged numbers. Then I met her husband , my wing introduced himself and she must have though we were gay because she left crying.
I ‘oh welled’ it (on to the next one) and met a young fellow African, number 2. with a redunkulouse booty, (noticing a theme?) another 8 she opened me by asking if I had any coke, again that is Coo-Coo Bananas, but as I said “Truth is the name passing…” you get it. I told her no coke, maybe weed definitely alcohol and she was in. We got rid of her gay friend and she came back with us. On the way my boy (God bless him) asked “you want the bed?” “Nah I said, I got this.”
And I did. I called texted 1 twice and called once, finally three days later she called back saying she was struggling with her need for the D she made her intentions known and her intentions were to FUCKKK! So I obliged.
Side note: I’m 5’10 and taller than the couch, she was 6’5 and not only did she not complain, she found a way to sleep over comfortably.
Try stuff. Take risks.
I’d never played poker but I won.
I could have conformed to how people dance to techno, but I didn’t.
I could have been put off by 1. being married.
I could have been put off by 2. asking for drugs.
I could even have put myself off by thinking I was less than because I was living on a couch.
Instead I stayed calm passed the tests and got rewarded. Know your worth, if you leave it to others to label you, they will label you the lowest you let them.