First of Many

If a girl's night out is always this fun.
I'd gladly be out every weekend with my girlfriend henceforth.
I've said I'm quitting (blogging).
But I thought for record's sake, I just had to get this down.

For the first time, I yelled at a friend.
She was fucking late. And when I meant fucking late, it's like an hour late, late.
For that one bloody hour.
I walked around PS like a loser, all dressed up with no date.
Called and screamed at her..
Because we were to meet at 9pm.
She arrived at 10pm. And I had my first meal in the entire day at 10pm.

For the first time, i ate 1/5 of my food
For the entire day, I ate just 1/5 of a plate of pasta.. and couldn't eat more.
I stuffed as much food as I could. But I guess.. I passed the hunger stage.. and I actually thought I could have gone on without food for the entire day.. But lest I faint later, I tried to eat as much as I could.

For the first time (in ages) I got checked for my ID at Double O.
We were so thrilled, we actually asked the bouncer what the minimum entry age it was for girls.
Hey hey.. It's not everyday we'd get stopped and checked for our age alright.
Apparently, we look younger than 20.

For the first time, I was picked up by weirdos instead of my friend.
You've got to understand, not that I am desperate for weirdos to pick me up.
But it's usually my friends who are on the receiving end of weirdos.
This time, instead, I had weirdos tapping on my shoulder and shoving his hp in my face.
With a lame message that reads:
My friend wants to know you, but he is too shy.
I am alright with the shoving of handphone into my face. He is not a weirdo because he shoved a handphone.
He is a weirdo because he was wearing a bright orange Adidas jacket (yes, cia, it's the one you have. The HOLLAND ONE!) and white specs, like pearl white ok?
If that's not a weirdo, I don't know what is.
Thank God, friend and I were in black, the universal clubbing color, where in 10 girls, 7 would be in black. So we proceeded to the bar counter to hide away from the weird friendly guys.

But then again, this weirdo beats the other weirdo.. who approached us and spoke in Mandarin about helping us to take our pics.
(we were taking pics ourselves with my friend's digicam)
And he is a weirdo because.. he speaks in Mandarin, period.
I mean... 你要我们帮你拍招吗? (he was with a friend) just totally freaked us out.

I think the least weird weirdo had to be the rather arty looking guy (with nice hair + goatie) who said nothing much but Nice to meet you, my name is XXXX.
I think I have his numbered stored somewhere.. Just that I can't really remember where I stored the number..
Gah.
*shakes head*
Can't trust guys from the clubs..
Thank God he is not too bad looking. Else I'd start wondering if I am a weirdo magnet.


Then again, the weirdest of all weirdos, (who picked me up today)..
Is.. *drumrolls*
A girl.
Mind you, she is not lesbian. Hardly looked like one..
In fact, when she came towards me with her guy friend, I thought I offended her or something..
Cos he friend actually pointed at me (rather rudely) and said This one huh?
She nodded, and her friend said.. My friend want to know you.. but don't worry she is NOT lesbian.
I gaped at her openly, and went.. HUH?
Ok, because I drank a little too much, we exchanged numbers and became friends.
She actually said we could go out shopping some time.
And I started wondering.. if I really would.
I mean...
I am hardly a friendly person.
Perhaps I smiled too much today, under the influence of alcohol.. but.. when I am normal.. I am not friendly.

This leaves me with a dilemma, if were not to trust guys from the clubs, what about girls from the clubs?
But then again, it was fun.

For the first time, I cried at Double O.
Perhaps not the first time I was sad and went out clubbing.. But to cry.
That's the first.
I guess it was all too much for me to take.
The thoughts of mascara smudging was chucked at the back of my mind.
Thank god my Kate- Curl Memory (waterproof) held up.
And at the end of the day.. I still had pretty lashes, and no smudges.
Oh wells.

For the first time, I realise some things said, cannot be unsaid.
Its the first time I truly feel, all's lost.

For the first time, we paid our own entry, and drinks
The many times we went out clubbing, we had free entries + free drinks
But being the working adults we are (or I am), we actually paid for our own cover charge, our own drinks.
And when I meant drinks, it meant a jug of vodka ribena, 2 tequila shots and pop, 2 breezer.
Tell me I am not fucking broke.
And also tell me tomorrow will not be hell.