Am I old? Or just a fucking bore!

Ever feel like you’re too old to go out? I mean don’t get me wrong I’m not old in a ‘stuck in bed with someone wiping my arse whether I want it or not’ way, BUT I’m 23 and clubs just aren’t the same anymore. Does anyone else feel like this or am I just a fucking bore?

Anyway…

The first time I ever went to a ‘proper’ club I was 17, and had spent the whole day memorising every detail of the ID I was borrowing; the address, birthday, birth sign, I even changed my name on all my friend’s phones to Claire.

The stupid thing was that the real Claire had an identical sister, and all 3 of us were going out together… I clearly hadn’t thought this through. Luckily for me the bouncer was either a total geezer that knew exactly what we were doing or he was thick as shit. Either way, I was in!

Striding in, shiny leggings, heels and a leotard that showed half my AA boobs (a touch of class),  I felt like the dogs fucking bollocks.

That night was actually wild, I was sat in VIP, drinking vodka (I despise vodka), dancing like I was auditioning for the newest Step Up movie, I was on cloud nine! Gone are the days of drinking in a field, or at some grimy house party, Lizi fucking Martin is sitting in Tiger Tiger VIP area and no one can get on my level. I’m 17 and I feel like I’m at the Oscars.

Anyway, long story bloody short, it stayed that way until I was around 22/23. In the beginning I was out at least 3 times a week, buying new lycra dresses, and spicing it up with tatty costume jewellery each time, and spending hours and hours getting ready in my mum’s house with the girls.

I loved the attention off the little creeps in the club (bow down to me bitches), I knew most of the bouncers around Manchester, and quite frankly I believed I was the life and soul of the party.

As time went on I found my style, and to everyone’s relief, gone were the lycra dresses! Deansgate Locks, sticky floors and most of my old haunts just weren’t cutting it like they did before. Gone are the days of swigging vodka like it was water. Turns out, it actually tastes like nail varnish remover. Fuck that.

So we get to the present day, and at 23, I’m practically ancient!

Clubs just aren’t my scene anymore, they are packed with wankers, expensive and just boring to be in.

Stick me in a shitty pub for £1 pints, a bar with a gorgeous setting and some porn star martinis, or back at mine with the girls – Malibu and Coke in hand and I’ll be fab! But if I find myself in a club, with creeps, nob heads, and £10 drinks then I’ll have a face liked a slapped arse for the whole night.

Maybe this post is a bit depressing, or its just the realisation that I’m not 18 anymore feels a bit bleak, but it’s OK I’m sure they allow alcohol in nursing homes, so I’ll be fab!

Lizi XX

1 Comment

Comments are closed.