so after 2 years we go back to a place called Nu’Bar and firstly the bouncer recognised my face and we skipped the massive que, entering a room filled with booze, sluts and testosterone. I found myself a bit embarrassed when i realised – that was me a few years ago.
Making our way through the crowd to get a small spot on the dancefloor just to prove white people aint got no rhythm – but hey we’re enjoying ourselves: YOLO! Right infront of the stage, where by law only girls are allowed to dance, we made our mark and looking up I found myself staring at the girls Charlie Sheen drunk on a good day.
All of them dressed the same: crop tops or nipple caps, short mini skirts short enough to have you’re vagina on display for the hungy pack of pumas staring an getting ready to pounce. Thinking back I probably looked like the babysitter in my navy skinny and cream low neckline- long sleeve blouse – I’m classy like that. 😉
So dancing and laughing at the playlist, which by the way is also still the same since 2009, anyway, we look up at the stage to see a girl so drunk by standing shes dancing ( moment of silence for everyone who remembers those nights) and her skirt kept going up-up-up all the while my gayby (gay baby) is getting a bit uncomfortable. Then, before thinking my next move through, I found myself pulling down her skirt..
With that oh shit did I just do that expression on my face I realised I’m 25 and this was probably my que to go home…
realising I’m 25 was a bit of a sorry Suzy moment untill I stopped and remembered;
I had my drunk nights (sometimes I still do even if its just to hang like a fruit bat the next day)
so here’s to being 25, single, classy and fabulous.