That Time I Turned 29 and Realized I’m Officially a Golden Girl

I started kicking off my 29^th birthday on Saturday, April 22^nd when my best friend and I spent the night eating burgers and dancing in an inaccessible club with a bunch of Woo Girls and a very bad DJ. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Katie and I started out by going to Blu Wolf Bistro for a delicious birthday burger and I have no regrets about this whatsoever. This was the first of my 30 before 30 burgers. You can read my review of this (and every other burger I try) here.  

Check out this beautiful Birthday Burger!

After burgers, we headed over to Vinyl Nightclub. I chose this one because the reviews said the music could please “women from 20 to 50” and since I regularly feel like a woman from 20 to 50 depending on the day and the amount of coffee in my system, I thought I’d enjoy the vibe there. Bonus: the pictures didn’t show a nightclub with mirrors on every wall, and I’ll be honest, after the trauma of Taylor’s Nightclub, that did play into my decision making. When we arrived I was greeted by a flight of stairs, but it was my damn birthday weekend and stairs weren’t going to stop me! There were security guards to do the lifting, and my chair and I got in just fine.

The first hint that I had that I am old now was that we were the first people there… I mean, minus an awkward bachelorette party that served to remind Katie and me that neither of us are even close to getting married, but this weird girl with  worse dance moves than us was about to tie the knot. But I digress. Anyway, we immediately grabbed some drinks so we’d be ready for our solo act on the dancefloor. I’m pretty sure the DJ just typed “TLC playlist” into Spotify and pressed play, then after 5 songs switched to “Britney Spears playlist.” Whatever, I can dance to all of it. But even better that that – the bathroom attendant could dance all of it too, and so much better than anyone else in the club that entire night. So there we were - me and Katie, alone on the dancefloor - when the DJ switches to the Michael Jackson playlist when the 60+ year old woman who claims she is bathroom attendant, but is obviously a stunt double on Dancing with the Stars, starts moonwalking on the dancefloor and putting us to shame.

No joke, the lady got on her tip toes like it was nothing.

Soon thereafter the music stops and the DJ announces that “something is wrong” and he can’t play music. No, I’m not kidding. The Spotify DJ had ONE job – play music. And he couldn’t even do that. After 20 minutes DJ Spotify gets the music going again and there are some new people on the dancefloor including:

1. Old guy with robotic dance moves

2. Guy with gold chair and sunglasses on the dark dance floor, and

3. Guy in Brockport hoodie who couldn’t understand that invading our space wasn’t cute.

I immediately decided I needed to marry Sunglasses Guy because who doesn’t want to be with that level of douche? Brockport man decided he wanted to marry Katie, but after stepping on her foot, Katie only had unpleasant feelings toward him. He kept trying to get close to her, so we tried to be nice at first and kindly inform him that he wasn't allowed in our dance space. It was very much like Johnny Castle in Dirty Dancing explains personal space to Baby

But when he didn't listen to our kind "stay the fuck away" message, we channeled our inner Kelly Clarkons and sent him a stronger message. And by "strong message" I mean I literally drew a line on the dance floor and told him he wasn't allowed to cross it. 

Dancefloor Lesson

Robot Dancer didn’t want anyone – he wanted his beer and his dance moves. Beyond the Robot, Robot Dancer’s repertoire including churning butter, the Egyptian, and what I can only describe as an imitation of the crane in the crane game and never getting the claws on the prize.  Later, Robot Dancer approached me and placed a cold, opened beer in my hand without saying a word. I handed it back to him and he pushed it back to me. I announced “It’s open. I won’t drink this.” He seemed offended, but between the possibility of germs and roofies, I didn’t feel a drop of sadness in rejecting that shit. Needless to say, things didn’t work out between us. However, I did have a moment with Sunglasses Guy during a 90’s song where his dance move included pointing at me and I pointed back at him. We never spoke, but I think this is a good sign that we’ll probably get married.

After that life changing moment with Sunglasses Guy, the Woo Girls came. If you’re not familiar with Woo Girls, please watch this brief tutorial:

The Woo Girls only served to show me how old I truly am and, oddly, make me thank God that I’m not young anymore. For example, Woo Girl 1 approached me by bending down to my level to scream in my face “ARE YOU HERE TO DANCE?!” “Yes, that’s why I’m at a dance club” I tell her. “I JUST CAME HERE TO DANCE!!!!” she informed me. Super. She then proceeded to announce “MY BOYFRIEND IS OUT OF TOWN AND I JUST WANT TO DANCE!” I’m wondering if her boyfriend doesn’t let her dance or if he’s such a bad boyfriend that she celebrates by dancing every time he leaves. I didn’t get to find out because immediately after she announced this, her friend, Woo Girl 2, started screaming in my other ear “OH MY GOD THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG!!!!” as DJ Spotify switched to the Selena Gomez station. Meanwhile, Katie and I were the old ladies complaining that we wanted better music, like Prince or the Backstreet Boys. DJ Spotify did eventually switch to the 90’s station again for a bit, and we danced in our glory, until he switched back to the Woo Girls favorite tracks (aka every overplayed song that exists currently). DJ Spotify continued to play the Woo Girls Greatest Hits, so I checked the time and it was 1 am and I decided that I’m old now and that means I don’t need to stay out until the club closes. I’m not a Woo Girl. If anything, I’m a Golden Girl, and Golden Girls do whatever the fuck they want, including going home before 2 am. So I went home, made some easy mac, and fell asleep on my couch before I finished it. And it felt good. 

I guess that makes me Rose. 

Abbreviated Version:

Katie and I rocked the dance floor at an inaccessible club with the 60 year old bathroom attendant who probably starred in Flash Dance back in the day. Throughout the night we encountered interesting/bad dancers, a man who possibly attempted to roofie me, and Woo Girls who reaffirmed that I am indeed old now. At 1a m I declared myself a Golden Girl and went home, cuz old people who what they want.

Lessons Learned:

1. I’m closer to being a Golden Girl than a Woo Girl. I’m proud of this.

2. The 60 year old bathroom attendant is closer to being a Woo Girl than I am. I am still jealous of her moves.

3. Anyone with Spotify can apparently be a DJ now. I am saddened by this.