The Misanthrope's Guide to: Clubbing

Last night, I was treated to the pleasure of going out with a small group of friends. This was nice, we went out to the Mawson Club and had a drink (I had a Red Bull - I don't drink alcohol) over discussions of cars and pornography. It was a good, manly occasion, helped along by the near-empty club.

Following this, we ended up going out to Civic, where the majority of clubs in Canberra are located. We ended up in a club called ICBM, which I was assured was much better than the other options. If so, I have no problem in burning Civic's nightclub scene to the ground.

Once inside ICBM, we were subject to bad music turned up very loud, with the bass cranked even higher - which meant that I could barely communicate with anyone (my voice running on the same frequency as the loudest parts of the song). On top of this, I ended up faking my way through several conversations with people whom I find less than desirable.

Most men can guess at this anyway, but a short stop to ICBM's bathrooms had me ready to abandon the group and drive home. Never before have I witnessed a more disgusting display of humanity - but I haven't been to Detroit.

We left the club and it occurred to me that half of the people talking to me since entering Civic had just been asking, "Are you alright?" or questions of that nature. A pretty clear sign that no, I wasn't.

Anyway, I dropped people home, which took a good half an hour. The last person that I dropped home said as a goodbye, "We should do this again sometime, make it more regular."

Quite simply: No. I'm not going to drive all that way to expose myself to the less-than-desirables of society. Most people are more than enough trouble anyway.

That is all.

(Although I did enjoy the quiet drink at the Mawson Club).