white party lessons

white party lessons

respecting women + unorthodox hangover cures from strangers

perhaps i'm just a foul minded, perverted old man deep down but when i hear 'wet t-shirt contest' i also hear the unspoken whisper of 'nipples' and i hope against hope that actual flesh will be seen. i don't find myself alone in this line of thinking. i was packed shoulder to shoulder in a club full of lesbians and upon hearing "we are starting the wet t-shirt contest!" like moths to a flame, the masses scurried stage-side. looking at the faces around me, i noticed the crowd was peppered with smiles and mouths agape in anticipation of the glory we were all about to witness.

i've never been the type of woman who found strip clubs very offensive. any number of reasons could be the driving force behind this thought. from my work history in male-saturated fields to my personal experiences within the clubs themselves, i've always seen these women objectifying their own bodies and people paying them for the experience. never have i judged anyone who calls a club their home because on some level- it was a choice to be there, just as it was my choice to walk in.

now, the thought of men objectifying these women and not seeing them for the soft, beautiful, downright fabulous dancers they are does make me ill...but little, unassuming me making it rain on them is nothing short of magical. hypocritical? perhaps- but it's where i stand.

the crowd's verdict on strip clubs is still a mystery to me, however their thoughts on wet t-shirt contests is a lock. the love between both crowd and water soaked, t-shirt clad temptress' was a palpable one. i didn't hear one disrespectful word from those standing alongside me, except for the occasional, "oh the things i'd do to her..."

while the crowd was foaming at the mouth waiting for the show to begin, camera phones began to light up the club. like sweet summer lightning bugs, the glowing screens began to dance and i hoisted my video camera high above my head. the curtains peeled back and a t-shirt covered woman could be seen peeking out- i clicked on the flash and hit record.

after the first contestant was finished the MC grabbed the mic and looked sternly at us all. with furrowed brows and a finger wave that meant business she told us, "you all need to put the cameras and camera phones away NOW. you all need to RESPECT these women. if i see any of these photos on facebook- i swear...just put them away. and you- YOU WITH THE VIDEO CAMERA! I SEE YOU, PUT IT AWAY AND HAVE SOME RESPECT!"

you know the very first time your mother walked in on you while you were sharing a personal moment with yourself? that's how i felt...like a pervert who was caught lurking around a playground with a backpack full of candy and pokemon cards. after a talk with security and the promise that i would not post the videos, i was allowed to keep my camera and continue partying the night away.

but just for the record...i respect each and every diamond that graced the stage that evening. i bow down humbly towards those who allowed the celebrity guests to moisten their shirts with pitchers of water. i have nothing but admiration for both you and what i may or may not have seen through your shirts. you all were lovely but i digress, back to the party...

dani campbell (from "a shot a love with tila tequila") and elizabeth keener (aka dawn denbo of the l-word) were the celebrity guests in attendance that evening. i won't go so far as to say tila had it coming from the jugaloos, because that's truly awful what happened to her, however it's obvious her decision making skills are less than stellar. for one to pass on the formerly-firefighting, lady-loving dani campbell for some forgettable fella is still a riddle to us all.

i'm 90% sure dani's hand was on my fanny and/or in the general vicinity of it during the time of this photo.

this could be explained by the fact that i'm taller than 80% of the non-athletic lesbians and that forces me to hunch to make sure i don't flirt with tranny height in photos. it could also just as easily be explained as everyone was drunk, so a little hand slip down to the ol' ash-ass isn't THAT flattering. also, with my subtly pink backpack taking up the better portion of my back area, where else was her hand to go? whatever, fuck that- we shared a shot a love. she may not know my name, nor be familiar with the basic structure of my face...but damnit if we didn't make a little magic that night.

the night ended as chaotically and with as much energy as it had began. the crowd at cobalt was a diverse and impressive one. i hit on no one and staid almost completely sober the entire party but the night was still a success. i did witness an unparalleled act of kindness from a stranger towards my friend.

my friend had one too many sips of alcohol that evening and was found throwing up next to a car. strangers and friends alike, rallied around her making sure everything was taken care of and she was safe. after buying crackers, bread and 7-11 pizza i returned to the stoop where everyone had gathered only to find it empty. these strangers had walked my drunken friend down the street to their home for safekeeping.

if that had been the extent of their kindness, i would have been overjoyed but one fella pulled out all stops and really wow'd me. not once or twice but multiple times he lovingly rammed his fingers down my friend's throat to ensure she would not have a hangover. i consider myself a pretty neat little friend...but i also let my OCD tendencies take the wheel from time to time and THAT most definitely would not have been a bridge i'd have crossed for her.

moral of the story is that it did prove to be a great hangover cure...so at least there's a silver lining to a bite marked-speckled, vomit soaked finger from a new friend.