I love Fridays. Not only do you get to look back on a week’s worth of work with satisfaction and accomplishment, but you also get to celebrate and connect with friends you’ve neglected all week long. After a stressful yet fulfilling week at our day jobs, I decided to take my bae to meet up with some friends at our local lesbian bar. After all, I was scheduled for a DJ shift and she needed to blow off some steam.
The night went right along like a usual Friday: it was an interesting crowd, as many of our regulars were headed to the beach for Labor Day weekend. While I was confined to the DJ booth for most of the night, my fiancé was free to run the pool table with our friends and enjoy her night as she pleased. She met some nice girls at the pool table and proceeded to socialize with them like any normal human being should.
For some of us out there, this set up alone might be cause for our green-eyed monster to come out, but being a part of the industry for so long, I am pretty immune to unfamiliar faces. My relationship is built on trust—not jealousy—and I know I can count on my partner to play it safe when it comes to sniffing out stranger danger.
Everything was fine until one of the girls flashed a flirtatious smile and asked my fiancé, “Are you here with anyone?” Being the polite yet direct partner that she is, she gently replied that she was there with her fiancé, and proceeded to point me out at the booth. I smiled and waved, acknowledging the girls with a warm, yet all-knowing smile.
Now, I’ve hit on plenty of girls in my day; some single and some who had partners. Once I was made aware of someone’s dating status, I would retort with a compliment, “Awe, you guys make a cute couple” or I would casually shrug off my losses and move on to the next. This is club code, and this is the point at which I would expect this unspoken code to kick in.
Instead of replying with a compliment or a “Sorry…glad I asked,” the girl proceeds to continuously hit on my fiancé. When we went outside for a little breath of fresh air, she and her friend repeatedly told me how awesome my partner is—as if that’s not the reason why I put a ring on it. Later in the night, after only what I can assume were many drinks, the girl’s friend leans in a little too closely for my comfort, and this time I intervened, because I too had a few drinks, and at that point, I was over it.
The continuous prowling of a girl already committed to another is one of the leading problems with clubbing culture and the club scene. It’s no wonder why some lesbians are too afraid to bring their partner out to the bar. People get drunk. People mess up. People have a different moral code. After last Friday night’s experience, I’m really starting to understand why lesbian couples cling to each other under the safe haven of their couches and comforters. Still, that will never be me.
I love the sense of community that Phase 1 brings to our city and I love the electricity of a Friday night dance floor. When ladies get disrespectful, we handle it, like mature adults. When girls hit on our significant others, we don’t have to huff and puff or get all bent out of shape. Instead, we can learn to take it as a compliment, and like Taylor Swift, just shake-shake-shake it off.
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