THE GAME

Wow. Time really does fly. 2011 already? What’s next? 2020? Life really is fleeting, I see.

For the first time in eons, I went to church this New Year’s Eve. Trying to start the year off right, y’know? I was skeptical about the service, thinking there wasn’t gonna be anyone over there. Boy, was I ever wrong. There were so many there it was unbelievable. There barely was space to sit, and we had to go to the overflow section even! People, black people especially, love God, apparently.

But seeing how that was Friday night, it left Saturday night open for a little mischief. I hadn’t been to a club in forever, but this time we were like: F*ck it – let’s do this! Fortunately, it was uncharacteristically warm that night, much to my relief. So, three of us jumped in the hooptie and headed downtown to DC.

For once, we had no problems whatsoever. But then again, we are all grown and had done it all, so all we wanted was to have a good and safe night, unlike back in the day when things were a little crazy, involving fights and cops and whatnot. We actually found a great parking spot, which is nothing short of a miracle downtown, then walked over trying to find a spot to go to.

In a few minutes we encountered this one place that felt right. It was 2 floors worth of goodness – R&B downstairs and Hip-Hop upstairs. The bouncer collecting the cover even gave me a discount because, and I quote, I paid for the ladies. Less money out my wallet? That’s always good.

But it was when we went in that I realized just how much I’d missed the nightlife - the loud music, the pulsating lights and the festive atmosphere, not to mention the dancing. It’s a beautiful thing. But the best part of it all? The game.

See, Shawty and I have this harmless [I hope] little game we play sometimes: We act like we’re not together, just to see who’d get hit on the most. Needless to say, the odds are almost always in her favor; guys will hit on anyone fine whether they have a man or not, but girls are a lot more – shall we say – perceptive. Never have we played this game and Shawty struck out – all she has to do is go to the floor and *bam* - some dude shows up. I on the other hand, have had nights where no one tried to holla, save for giving me the eye across the room.

Of course, there are risks to this game, and my testosterone-fueled paranoia never lets me forget it – I can’t help but keep an eye on her. The minute some dude tries to cop a feel or mess with the goodies, it’s over, and I go break it up. Not that I’ve had the chance to, coz she’s fiercely protective of them, and especially because she knows I'd be livid. But I can’t help but watch, nevertheless. Hey, gotta mark the territory, right?

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind anyone else all over me. One time sometime back I went to get another round and got accosted by this one girl by the bar. Let’s just say I took too long and Shawty came to see what was up and caught me with the other girl’s arms around me and mine gripping her waist, gyrating to the music. The horror on my face must’ve been apparent, but she just laughed it off and was like: I see what you’ve been doing. No no, don't stop.

I’m not an idiot. I stopped right away.

But anyway, back to the tale.

This time around, Shawty and her girlfriend downed their drinks and promptly hit the floor. In what seemed like seconds, the vultures were all over them, much to my amusement. I was just standing there on the sidelines for a long time, sipping on my drink, watching them and scanning the crowd, when I noticed one girl by the bar giving me the eye. I seriously considered going over and chatting her up or asking her to dance, but then Shawty came back to check on my ‘success,’ of which I had none. Something about the way we spoke, or the body language, must’ve seemed too cozy for the girl by the bar coz when Shawty went back to the floor and I looked up, she was gone. And that was it – no ‘play’ for me that night.

But that’s quite alright. I being the simple creature that I am don’t need any compromising situations. But girls seem to able to tease without personalizing it, something I don’t do well. I love the feel of a woman’s body too much to ignore it. Not to say I lust over everyone I dance with.

And it was with great satisfaction that, after the night was over and with the vultures watching, I escorted the ladies back to the car, which was still in one piece. I didn’t even have a parking ticket pinned against the windshield, and the Lancer seems to attract those more than bird-poop. All in all, it was a great night.

Happy New Year, everybody. Knock 'em dead this year.