Drinking and Dancing

Saturday night my friend and I went out to a "dance club". HOW have I got to the age of 36 and never ever went out dancing? I used to be so nervous about how I would look that I wouldn't even dance at weddings. My husband of course, was (is) the same way, which turned us into those people that just sit there miserably and watch everyone else have fun. Sucks being white sometimes I tell ya!

So of course, if you are one of the two people that read this blog you know that while we were in Vegas last time we ended up at this little outdoor club place and "I" danced my ass off! OH it was so much fun!!! I never knew I liked to dance!

About a month ago my friend and I were down at the club bar and we did some dancing down there. AGAIN oh so much fun!!

Maybe it's because now I have got to the age where I don't really care what anyone thinks. Especially after a few drinks. It feels great to bounce and sway and be goofy.

Which brings us to this Saturday. My friend had been telling me about this place to go dancing for awhile now and I kept telling her "sure I'll go!". So we made plans and I thought for sure they would get cancelled at the last minute. BUT they didn't and I found myself staring at my closet full of mom clothes trying to figure out WHAT I am going to wear.

For those of you that don't know me, my closet consists of v-neck t-shirts in a variety of colors, tank tops in the same variety of colors, a few hoodies, a token few long sleeve shirts and some clothes that don't fit. Oh and funeral clothes.

Eventually I decided on not quite funeral black top (which ended up being way too fucking hot, don't wear polyester dancing), and capri pants and get this: my 3" hooker heels I bought to wear to that wedding we went to in February (apparently I didn't blog that?). I bought them to impress my husband but he didn't even get excited about them. Major disappointment, and those shoes? Hurt like a mo fo. BUT I couldn't wear my flip flops or tennis shoes so that was about all that was going to work.

Backtracking a bit, that moring I had told Scott I was going to go out with my friend. He just says "whatever" and didn't even ask what or where we were going. I was kind of pissed about how he answered me, but he was all drugged up from the benadryl so I guess he has an excuse.

So I'm getting ready. I have on my pretty (but squeaky) bra and my capri pants and Scott sees me getting dressed and he's all "where are you going?". Suddenly all interested. Our DANCING baby!! I'm all dressed up and finally my friend gets here (she's being the designated driver!) and we head to the club.

We pay our $10 cover charge and go in and check the place out. There's a dance floor in the middle of the room and lots of creepy stalker type of men standing around the edges. We have moustache man with the big cowboy hat. Totally tiny short man. Big nose, big head totally creepy man. And LOTS of others. Oh and you can't forget the cat suit wearing pole dancer type woman. But as we moved closer to the dance floor there were some more "normal" people. We danced, then would take a break to stand by some fans, then dance some more. I had a few drinks and somewhere in there ditched the shoes and we had a great time.We stayed until almost closing time and have decided that we should go back real soon! (and I didn't even get sick on the ride home, go me!)

See that shadow on her face? She kept trying to figure out what it was.

I was too drunk to figure it out but looking at it sober it's the shadow from her camera lol.