Monday, January 5, 2009


Or maybe it should be called "Glittah" because I think there are sparkles in the paint on the outside of the building. Yup, there definitely is.

That should be the first indicator of what you're about to walk in to.

The first time I ventured to Aura, I tagged along with my girlfriend to her fiancee's friends bday party. I was kind of excited to meet his friends and potentially some cute boys, but was instantly let down when I knew they spent more time getting ready than I did.

We finally made it through the glittery walls after a short trip through the 'backwoods' of Uptown. I immediately noticed that 1. I forgot that the dress code was just my santa lingerie 2. I might need to renew my tanning membership and 3. if I were a boy, I'd need to find a seriously good waxer because shaving my face just wasn't good enough anymore. I meekly looked down at my 'winter' skin and fully buttoned silk forever 21 top (I was feeling cute that night too!) and realized I didn't seem to make the cut with this 'elite' Dallas crowd. And normally, for those of you who don't know, I have no problem storming the dance floor, but there was no way I could compete with 'wanna-be' brunette Britney sloshing her wine glass all over her jersey knit dress and girlfriend's sweat-matted hair. Instead I cautiously bee-bopped in our little circle and was only jostled when a "young lady" in a very fitted red dress thought it appropriate to slap my behind not once but several times and yell, "you like that girl!" Needless to say, I was not going back to Aura any time soon and we moseyed on over to Knox St. Pub.

But there I was again at this glittery, uptown, dance-poppin', douche bag crawling, small dress wearing club, guiltily standing at the glowing bar with my girls on both sides, ordering a cherry vodka and soda from the overly large bartender. What I felt even guiltier about was that our names had been on a list to get past the 10 people that actually were standing in line to get in. Which really meant that barely anyone was there; therefore there was no one to compete with on the dance floor. It was soon ours and stayed ours for the entire time we shook our business. It didn't matter what whoo-whoo's and dbags sauntered and creeped around, because none of them could even keep up with the 8 booty poppin' girls and wouldn't dare try. The next day I had muscles that were only sore after a great night of dancing.

So here's my lesson learned: if you're gonna hit the "clubs" .. go with your girls, get there early, forget the dbags, ignore the staring whoo whoo's, shake it like it's no one's business and drink like there's no tomorrow. It doesn't matter where you go - sticking to those fundamentals can make any place fun!

Thanks for a great weekend ladies!

1 comment: