Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Ain't No Party Like a Douchebag Party Because a Douchebag Party Involves Humping

I reviewed one of my favorite Goosebumps books as a kid, One Day In Horrorland, over at Childhood Trauma. Plus I finally stopped being lazy and made a facebook page for CT here. So go like it and make us feel like we aren't just writing to ourselves! (Not that it would stop us.) Be on the lookout for a guest posting week coming soon!

After we left the house party, we headed to downtown Shreveport to go bar hopping. Going drinking downtown on any given Friday or Saturday night will give you the joy of seeing plenty of super attractive people walking the streets.

Oh hai. We jerk each other off, but we're totally not gay.
Pink polos, baseball caps, and douchey smiles as far as the eye can see! Obviously this was my dream come true. Within three seconds of being in the first bar, I texted Andy, "I think they all called each other and coordinated their outfits beforehand."

They also seemed to coordinate their pick-up lines. I have been very sheltered from the creepy-guys-in-bars scene, thanks to the fact that I was engaged at the ripe old age of 20. But Jesus Effing Christ, if I had a nickel for every time a guy asked me and my friends, "So..... are you from around here?" I would probably be able to afford one Affliction shirt. (That's a lot of nickels, yo.)

As we were being accosted by yet another douchey doucheface, I saw a light of hope across the room. One of the most beautiful things I've ever seen in a bar. The moment it came into my line of vision, I knew I would be able to make it through the night.

Y'all. It was a motherfucking visor.

This may seem like something I shouldn't have been quite so excited about, but let me remind you that I was stuck downtown with an army of douches looking at me like I was Miley Cyrus on her 18th birthday. That visor was my savior for the night. And I absolutely would not rest until I tracked down the man who was wearing it and made fun of him properly.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long.

VisorDouche probably felt the power of my OH NO HE DIDN'T eyes from across the bar, because less than five minutes later, he was all up in our bidness. He walked up to our group of girls and said (of course), "So, are you guys from around here?"

Me: (Interrupting my friends) Yes, and THAT IS A SWEET ASS VISOR, SIR.
VisorDouche: Really? I was thinking it might be kind of lame to wear downtown.
Me: AHA! Uh, no. Definitely not. That is the most amazing thing I've seen all night. Please wear that for the rest of your life. Actually, you should probably be buried in it.
VD: ...........

I was met with this blank stare from men for the majority of the night, which was honestly the only thing that kept me from gauging my eyes out with a spoon or drinking an entire bottle of Tequila to hopefully black out and forget where I was. Almost every guy that hit on us ended up telling my friends, "Wow, this one is a smart ass, huh?" while they pointed their thumb in my direction.

I was making fun of a new person when one of my girlfriends walked up and said, "Hey, everyone wants to go to Phoenix Underground! Let's leave now!"

Me: Phoenix? We're going to...... Phoenix?

"Please, dear God, don't make me go there."
Phoenix Underground is the douchiest of all douchey places I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing in my life. People in the Jersey Shore are like, "Phoenix? Ew, aren't there a lot of douchey guys there?" Jon Gosselin is like, "Oh man, Phoenix is that place with all the douchey guys in polos, right?" Michael Lohan is all, "Oh God, Phoenix? Do normal people actually go there?" THAT'S HOW DOUCHEY IT IS.

I tried to get out of going, but these girls were relentless.

Me: But there's a dress code, and I'm wearing flip flops...
Girlfriend #1: We're a bunch of hot girls! They'll totally let us in.
Me: But I don't have any cash to pay the cover...
Girlfriend #2: I'll get you, girl! Don't worry about it!
Me: But I.... uh, need to.... wash my hair?

Unfortunately, it was a losing battle and within minutes, we were on our way to Phoenix Doucherground. As we got in the elevator to head down to the club, I decided being roofied really wouldn't be that bad. At least I wouldn't have to remember this awful place in the morning?

I went to the bar with one of the girls, because I wasn't quite drunk enough to be humped by a bunch of guys I didn't know on the dance floor. My friend and I were talking/yelling at each other when the Hand Clap started playing through the speakers.

Me: Ohmygod, I love this song! And I totally know the dance moves!

I started dancing a little AT (not on) the bar, while I smoked a cigarette and talked to my friend. Next thing I know, someone walks up behind me and literally starts humping me.

You know when a dog is trying to hump your leg, and it wraps its front two legs around your calf and holds on as tight as it can with super human dog strength and you're kicking and yelling and slamming said dog against a door and absolutely nothing will get it to leave you alone?

Yeah, that's pretty much how I would describe this experience. It became a familiar cycle by the end of the night, and I got so used to it that I forgot it was ever weird in the first place.

  • Stand still at the bar
  • Start shaking your hips slightly at the bar
  • Have a drunk creepy guy in a polo shirt hump you
  • Turn around, shoo him away, stop dancing
  • Repeat five minutes later
I swear to God, y'all, he had to have had super powers because every fucking time I started moving in any way that could ever be construed as dancing, this guy would show up out of fucking nowhere to hump me. Dude could be down the road in a different bar, and he would still hear me say, "Oh I love this song!" just in time to leap behind me and try to grind on my backside. I would be angry about it, but it's almost impressive.

Around the time I wanted to leave, some more douchey guys were hitting on one of my friends and asked us if we wanted to take shots of whatever the hell they had in their VIP section.

Aside: The VIP section was filled with mattresses. That's it. Just mattresses. I knew I wasn't drunk enough to be in this situation because my only thought was, "OH EW. How many germs are on these beds? I'll be over here letting this guy hump me because even that seems more sanitary than this shit, thanks."

I finally started texting Andy to please, dear God, for the love of all that is holy, in baby Jesus' name, please come save me and get me out of here and also, could you shave off my entire top layer of skin when we get home because I'm pretty sure that's the only way I'm going to get the eternal smell of douche off of me.

Right when I started rejoicing because Andy was on his way, one of the douches spilled, nay, POURED his entire goddamn drink in my lap. As the anger that I had been feeling all night started rising to the surface, threatening to burst out of me and devour all these awful, disgusting guys, I said through clenched teeth, "We. Need. To. Go."

I started getting the few remaining girls together and was waiting for a friend to come out of the bathroom when one of the douches who practically shoved shots down my friends' throats came up to me.

Douche: You know.... we did just buy you guys like five drinks, and you're just gonna leave like that?

Ex-squeeze me?
What I should have said: Sir, I am damn fucking good at sex and blow jays for that matter, and I can guarantee you that sex with me is worth a fuck of a lot more than two shots of tequila, thankyouverymuch. Now, go away, and I'll keep praying to Baby Jesus that your penis falls off.

What I said: Whatthefuck?

Luckily, at that moment, Andy let me know he was outside waiting for us, and I was able to exit that hellhole and never look back.

At least until the next Girls Night when I'll be forced to relive it all over again.

Uh, guys? I'll be washing my hair for the next four months.


  1. See what confuses me is. Guys act like that, dress like that for a reason. I don't for the same reason.

    It works on "some" women. The Vapid ones.

    The Douchenuggets get laid acting that way. They have to otherwise it doesn't make sense that this behavior hasn't died out yet.

  2. The whole time I was out, I kept texting Andy, "WHY DO GIRLS COME TO PLACES LIKE THIS?" in all caps and everything.

    I honestly don't understand how women in their right mind could possibly find clubs like that enjoyable. Maybe they just like the attention?

  3. The "we did this for you, and you're gonna bail" people always make me want to puke in their face. Or punch them in the face, assuming I've conveniently packed a glove in my bag for such an occasion.

    At least there was some enjoyment in making fun of guys, especially some turd in a visor.

  4. I once watched an episode of Jersey Shore out of morbid curiosity. I spent the entire episode simultaneously suppressing nausea and the desire to punch something. I can't even imagine how you survived this night...

  5. Holy shit, that sounds exactly like the downtown in my shitty town!!! I live in a total college town, so Douchey-McDouchebags roam freely with their popped collars and slurred words. UGH, I totally sympathize!

    Also, I stared at that Dawson GIF for like five minutes, just laughing. Very nice visual!!

  6. Oh shit girl, that sounds awful!

    I haven't gone to any clubs in a long time now and I'm afraid. I end up being the "smart ass," one. Problem is that my gf's are single so I end up being the wing woman.

  7. I've been to clubs like that, where I'm just trying to hang out with my friends and dance and weird random dudes keep coming up and humping my leg. Yucko. Why would they think that's attractive? Glad you went out, if only to blog about the experience, but yeah I'd say we aren't missing that much being homebodies.

  8. wow, i can't believe that guy actually said something about buying you drinks.. what a douche

  9. This is the precise reason I dont go clubbing anymore. Because unlike some people who have a goodly amount of patience for sass, snark, and sarcasm (like the lovely blogess) I would probably, actually definitely end up punching someone in the face and then end up spending the rest of the night incarcerated for random drive by bar humpings.

    Snark is only fun when the douchebag is too dumb to quite "get" it which ensures more snarking. Like visordouche. :)

  10. Douche aka Frat Boy, that is what I used to think, but nowadays these Douches are higher class frat boys, so sad right? I am thinking there in an epidemic. FInd me a man who is not like that?

    The bar scene has totally ruined everything. It is not a good time, I am jaded, and I am only 20.

    I want a guy in a blue plaid shirt with a dorky personality to swoop me away, where can I find that?

  11. Wait, people like that are for fucking real? Holy fuck! What the fuck did he expect? Jesus christ, I've lost all faith in humanity. (And reminded me how very glad I am that I'm married!)

  12. hahaha. hilarious. and I can totally relate. the few times that I've been "downtown" to go drinking have been mostly miserable- I'm really bad at the whole dry-humping-strangers-on-the-dance-floor thing, and also really bad at the dressing-up-for-the-club-thing. not to mention I'm really rude when random guys try to hit on me or my friends, and I always end up feeling like an outcast because the guy immediately brands me as the bitchy one. because, well, I am. and the dance club thing just isn't my scene. good to know I'm not the only Girls Night Grump.

  13. First of all, I think I've found what I'm going to do tonight - watch that Dawson gif over and over and over again.

    Secondly, I thought the pink polo shirts with popped collars was bad enough, but LEG HUMPING??? And yet, girls must fall for it, otherwise they wouldn't keep doing it. Right?! :S

    Also? There's a "date night" movie theatre in Melbourne that's filled with beanbags. I'm not sure whether that or the mattress VIP room is more unhygienic...

  14. "I decided being roofied really wouldn't be that bad." That certainly sums up the club experience perfectly. I'd say they should build a city to coral all these douches but they have, Las Vegas, now it's just a matter of herding all of them there.

  15. This was awesome. I'm sorry you had to have your leg humped, at all, nevermind several times but the re-telling is worth it from here. Far away where no one has humped me (in a bar) in a very long time, if ever. I can honestly say that I don't think I've ever been spontaneously ground upon by a stranger without invitation (or otherwise) in a bar. Granted I am 34 and Canadian. So my bar days are a good ten years behind me and Canadians might be just a tad too polite for that.

    I love the visor part too. I bow before you in admiration and respect at your ability to make fun of strangers with style and aplomb. Reminds me a little of me. Happy sighs.

  16. So many things wrong with these guys! This is why I refuse to go out most of the time. I just can not handle the ridiculousness. Thank goodness you got out of there.

  17. I agree with Teacher Girl but feel compelled to comment that there must also be something wrong with the girls who intentionally hook up with these guys.

    What do people find so appealing about getting drunk and having sex with random strangers on the floor of a "VIP" room? Am I missing something? Oh? I'm missing out on having drunken, sex with a complete stranger on the floor of a "VIP" room? Yeah, I really don't think I'm missing out on much.

  18. This entire post was win! (For you at least). Guys like that annoy me so much. They seem to assume that I'm somehow grateful for their attention when in actual fact I am telling them to get crotch away from my ass. And away from my friend's ass. I have no idea how they get any.

  19. Poor you, having to go through all of that. It was still funny for the rest of us, mind.

    I love the leg humping guys. It's fun to invent new ways to get them off of you. For instance, one of my favorites is to start dancing with them and reach for their belt, give it a little tug. They like that, think you're getting frisky. Then WHAM! Their pants are on the floor and you're walking away laughing.

  20. Sara, you're not sending the message clearly enough. You aren't washing your hair; you're shaving your hands. Duh.

  21. People don't leave because things are hard. People do leave because it's no longer worth it.


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