It seems to me the club has grown up with my generation. Now we call them lounges or after work happy hours or day parties but the message is still the same: Put on your best, uncomfortable outfit & hope a guy notices you.
Well, I'm kinda over it. And I should be, I'm 20 freakin 8. When I was young, fun and 21, I would have cringed at the sight of a 28 year old in the club. I would have commented on her orthopedic stockings, cane, and whatever else I thought 28 year olds did at the time. Now that I am that 28 year old in the club, even I realize I shouldn't be there. I don't like the lines, loud music, and the lyrics of the songs these days are just atrocious.
Yep, I think I've officially aged out of the club. A backyard cookout? Cool. Sunday dinner with some close friends? No problem. Brunch? Well, you can never turn down brunch. But standing in line, paying $20 to stand around and look awkward? Nah, I think I'm over that.
This is my Anti-Club Manifesto.