We Be Clubbin'

Saturday night in Charlotte, I went out with Jameil, her cousin and her husband. It was his birthday, so we went out to dinner at this spot called Mez. It was cool. Good food, good conversation and afterwards, he wanted to hit up a club. I didn't know we were going to do that, but I was down. We headed to this spot called Tempo.

Let me get this straight. Your club is housed in what looks like an Elks lodge/renovated barn. Your parking lot is a mixture of mud and gravel.  You have a lady selling homemade incense in the hallway. You got an large man in a bright red jacket spinning around looking like the Kool-Aid Man. Your music is not playing loud enough that I have to talk above my normal voice to be heard. Ain't nobody dancing. There are women with gold everything outfits. There are men with Coogi shirts on. I can smell the desperation in the air, or maybe that's the Black Love incense that's burning all night long. Bad weaves and age inappropriate clothes are the norm. There are middle aged men leering at 20 something females and desperate looking 20 something females showing all their cleavage to these same middle aged men.

And you didn't want to let me in because I didn't have on the right shoes? Like I said, I didn't know I was going to a grown and sexy club, otherwise I would have broke out the hard bottoms. But for real, it wasn't that serious. I was still easily in the top ten percentile of dopeness in my pink shirt, jeans and casual shoes. I got in on the strength of the cousin's husband knowing everybody, but I just found it funny that I was getting turned away in light of all of the mess that was going on inside that place. Probably would have been for the best, cuz that wack club was not for me.