Only a couple of years ago, I would go out to nightclubs as often as five nights a week. Now, as I’m approaching 30, I’m beginning to realize that I kind of hate the club scene and it’s not the crazy party I once thought it was. Here’s why clubs lost their appeal and why I doubt I’ll go back anytime soon:
I feel too old to hang out with most clubkids.
Once you hit 25 or so, you start noticing how stupid half of the things kids in clubs do really are. The older you get in the scene, the more people expect you to be the “mom” of the group, which isn’t fun. After awhile, you start to feel like you’re playing babysitter to a bunch of kids.
It got really boring.
Even when you’re hitting festival after festival, there’s a certain point where the songs, the lights and the party action becomes monotonous. There are only so many times you can dance the night away before you begin wondering what else you could be doing. It’s even worse when you realize that you’ve heard the same damned song played every single night for the past month or so.
When you know all the major promoters and their personal drama, the fun from clubbing can really disappear.
Part of why I used to like clubbing is because it was a way to feel like everything was alright, fun and happy in the venue. It can be downright depressing to see men who people party with burst into tears because they’re still single and all they can ever seem to find are groupies. There’s always drama going on, and there’s always a problem between at least two of your friends. It gets old, even if you live for drama.
I hated having random strangers grinding on me.
When I was a regular clubber, I took having guys grope me as an annoying side effect of clubbing. Usually when I told them to go away, they would. However, I’m sick of having to deal with it and having to actually ask people to leave me alone. It’s still hard to understand why guys think this is okay — it’s really not!
You’d be amazed to see how much you can afford to do when you’re not spending $100 a night at a party. You can afford a ton of lip glosses, eye shadows, and gym memberships, for starters, and I found out that I like those more than bottle service.
The people I met at clubs sucked.
While I did meet a couple of lifelong friends out at the club, the fact this that the vast majority of club friends I had were shallow, self-centered users who were more concerned about how they looked and how people complimented them than they were about being good people. After awhile, I didn’t want to have to take the time to sift through all the bad people just to make new connections.
Did I mention the drama?
Being a club scene regular meant that there was always drama going on. Every week involved Facebook fights, arguments breaking out on the dance floor, and passive-aggressive digs towards whoever was the “bad guy du jour.” It gets old really fast.
As I got older, the hangovers got longer.
I can’t do my normal club thing anymore, because of the fact that I’d need a day or two just to attend Hangoverfest featuring Puke Party afterwards. Hangoverfest is never worth attending, either.
Most clubs can’t serve a seriously good drink — and my tastes have changed.
I’m sorry, but I can’t stand poorly mixed vodka-Red Bulls anymore. If I’m going to spend $10 for a drink, I want it to be one that is carefully mixed, tastes incredible and also is served in a nicer atmosphere where I can focus on its flavor.
Selfies taken at clubs suck.
They’re never flattering and in all reality, no one but you ever wants to see them. Besides, they can be pretty incriminating.
I actually like to have conversations with people.
It’s hard, if not downright impossible, to do that in a nightclub that’s currently blasting music at ear-splitting levels.
Getting all dressed up every night is a hassle.
I used to spend about an hour getting ready for a single night out at the club. I knew that, by the end of the night, my outfit would be ruined. After eight years of getting dressed up to the nines, I got sick of it. Staying in with a bottle of vodka is so much easier!
It’s too easy to lose stuff and friends at a packed club.
After spending two hours or so searching for your friends, all you usually want to do is go home.
Because staying up until 6 AM is insane when you have a regular job.
Even writers who run on energy drink need to sleep.
Three words — sticky dance floors.
Ew. Just ew.
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