Went to House of Blues in Atlantic City last night for a social with the New Jersey Young Professionals. It's free to join, and you get to partake in social events all throughout the state with other young professionals. And by professionals I don't mean prostitutes. I mean other young-ish people in professional careers. Me being a journalist, I mingled with teachers and accountants and psychologists. We all met in the Foundation Room, an exotic club reminiscent of an Indian brothel: statues Ganesha, Kali and Buddha abounded, as well as Oriental carpets, Eastern art and candles. Even though I wanted a hookah, opium or absinthe, I just setled for the hor's doerves and free bar. After talking to an English teacher from Somerset County named Peg for an hour about the New York Rangers and The Great Gatsby, I needed a breather.
Met my friend Kat and her friend Susie and we all went to see comedian Craig Ferguson for free with complementary tickets. Seriously, I can't escape comedy! Craig was funny and his whole set consisted of his Scottishness and coming to America.
Afterwards, we went to Club Worship and lounged around. Despite its kinky name, Club Worship is not an S&M club. It's a regular dance club featuring some of the worst dance music on the planet. If this is what the kids are dancing to, I'm building the time machine and heading back to 1988. We danced to this horrible music, then lounged around amid the Turkish decor on the third floor of the club, watching an amateur rap group perform live. Listening to an amateur rap group made me want to take a pneumatic drill to my skull. Sorry, but I love music, just not that much I guess. I got in at 2 a.m. I haven't done that scene in years and with good reason. But you know what? I actually had a good time. I actually enjoyed being out with friends and meeting new people and seeing new things. And if listening to a bad rap group and awful dance music is the price you pay, then I'd do it again in a minute.
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