Clubbing While Black

Clubbing While Black

I have never felt more alone than when I’m in a crowded room of 200 white people.   I mean I have nothing against white people, they just have something against me.  Now, when I say that, they act all offended that I speak the truth and tell me how open minded they are and how color blind they are.  Let’s explore all the open minded, color blind white people that live in America.  There is nothing worse, in my mind, than me going somewhere spending my money, in a place where people don’t want me.  In fact, I consider it a high sin, to reach into my pocket and support a place with a bunch of bigots walking around me eying me like I’m an escaped convict.

I happen to have money to live in an area where I am virtually surrounded by white people.  I didn’t ask their permission to move in, so it’s not their fault.  I happen to have money to be able to go and get into clubs that white people frequent.  I did not double check with them to see if that was ok, so it’s not their fault.  I happen to have enough money to be able to pay cover charge, and check my coat in, into some pretty popular clubs around the city.  I did not send in a requisition with the white folks, it’s not their fault.

No matter how crowded the club is, I always receive VIP status.  I mean, I must be a VIP.  I have no less than 5 feet of space, no matter where I stand, in the club.  I have no less than an entire radius of empty tables around me at all times, in the club.

However, I must have magical powers or I must be a daywalking vampire.  Why do i say that?  Because when I go up to the bar to get a drink, I am invisible.  I have literally pasted a one hundred dollar bill to my forehead and wore all white and still did not get served.  In fact, I have stood at the bar, sometimes, for 10 minutes waiting to be served, a white person walks up and the bartender rushes to take their order.  So I am a VIP, daywalking, Black vampire.

Speaking of Black, as much as people want to tell me about their best Black friends, they are not talking about my kind of Black.  I am dark chocolate and a pure blood.  They do not know my pain.  They are talking about a half breed Black person.  These half breed Black people get a pass all day long.  Most whites now consider the half breeds to be nothing more than latino or Indians, from India.

Oh, I’m exaggerating?  I went to a club with one of these famous half breed Black guys.  He was two shades darker than a white man with a tan and had funky weird not Black hair.  You know the kind, I’m talking about.  He was also about 21 going on 16. The guy looked like a kid.  Now mind you I’m a solid 31 year old and I look exactly 31 years old, all day, every day.  They did card him.  Barely looked at his ID and waved him on.  Me, the security eyed my card and called the manager over and said my ID was fake.  What’s the difference?  I’m 6’2, 220lbs of pure muscle and am unmistakeably pure blooded African prince.  They asked me to leave.  They did not have to ask twice.  The irony of the situation was that I was going to treat the kid to some drinks and he had no money.  I had about, you guessed it, one hundred dollars in my pocket.  And, I will never go there again.

You see white people and the half breed Blacks have no idea what it is to be a dark chocolate brother in America.  I’ll repeat that, since most don’t understand it.  A dark chocolate African American is stigmatized by EVERYONE, including by half breed Blacks as well.  With the invasion of Mexicans and other non-white mixes coming into America, the half breed Blacks are written off as simply being non-white.  They have names now for them: Blatino; Mexicoon; Blasian; Puerto Rican; Blussian; Polynegran.  In other words, they’re not Black.  And, they proudly admit they’re Blatino or whatever and will argue with you that they are not Black.  I say more power to them.

But, let’s get back to the club.  I’m sitting in a club the other day and 4 young ladies walk in, all white of course.  They have with them their mother.  And, they are eying me.  No no no no, not eying me to check me out, they are eying me to clutch their purses closer to them and moving as far away from me as they can.  A barfly comes up to me and asks why am I sitting alone and not talking to other people.  I reply, they are not talking to me.  He goes back to his friend / date.  He must have gotten bored with his date or something.

Let’s rewind a bit.  I used to wear designer clothes.  You know the kind, $400 for a shirt, etc.  I go to a club, wearing probably about $2,000 worth of clothes.  I am in the VIP line, because I was in fact on the list.  The doorman stopped me and said I couldn’t come in because my shirt did not have a collar.  Wait, before you get all logical and say, that’s a reasonable request.  I tell him to look at the line of the non-VIP people and how they are letting white guys with shorts and sandals in the club.  He said he didn’t care and I wasn’t getting in.  It just so happened that the person that put me on the list, “the talent” just walked out the door and saw me.  He brushed by the doorman, ignoring him, and grabbed my arm and led me inside personally.  I wasn’t just on the VIP list, I was personally invited.  I was taken to the VIP section, which was quite boring.  I was then asked by all the other VIP people, “why are you up here?”  Yes, they were white people.  I found the lower lesser beings far more interesting than the VIP crowd.  Even when they started having sex on the VIP couches, it was all boring to me.  I left after a long evening and “the talent” came up to see us after his performance.  I never went back.

Normally the “XXX while Black” stories normally end with the police arresting some unsuspecting Black person for no other reason than being Black.  Unfortunately, I have no such stories.  However, after a long time of clubbing, I was told that there used to be several Black clubs in town.  They were very successful, but that each one was shut down by the police for one reason or another.  Hell, any reason will do.  I had gone to one, at one time.  It was very expensive and their dress code was through the roof.  It was no problem for me, because I was used to dressing up to go out.  They not only closed down the club, but they demolished the building.  There is no way that that club did not make untold riches.  Everyone there was Black, from the doorman to the owner.  It had valet parking, the whole nine yards.  Its one mistake?  It was located in a white neighborhood.  I wasn’t there when police came, but I cannot imagine anyone needing to call the police on the place.  It was very high class.  There are a lot of clubs out there that pretend to be high class, simply to scam you out of your money, but this club legitimately had a wine collection and liquor that cost $250 per bottle.  I’m sure you know clubs that will try to charge you $250 for a bottle of liquor or wine, but this club had them.  I just happen to know this because I studied wines and liquors in school.

Everyone talks about Patron as being high end tequila.  Let me clue you in.  Patron is sewage water.  It is literally considered what poor people drink.  However, cross the border into America and slap on a nice ad campaign and any liquor is passed off as high end liquor, tequila or whatever you want sell.  Americans don’t know what’s good quality in liquor or wine.  They want one thing now, go to the club and drink so much liquor they can’t see straight.  Come next weekend, they’ll do it all over again.

Why shouldn’t they go overboard with their drinking?  Everyone tells them that alcohol is terrible and shouldn’t be touched.  So, they are deprived of alcohol and once they have the opportunity, they get wasted out of their mind on liquor and booze.  Let’s through in the puritanical way their raised to feel about how sex is bad and horrible and you have a one two punch of sex and alcohol.

In the mean time, I’ll be in my VIP section observing, sipping on my drink for about an hour, in my land of being completely avoided by everyone in the club, for fear I might … turn into some even Blacker hulk and start raping white women or something crazy, whatever is in their white mind, while they scurry away from me.  It is all so hilarious.

I am running out of clubs to go to, that won’t act like I have leprosy when I’m paying green cash.

Like I said, it is a high sin to pay hard earned money in a place that is more bigoted than George W Bush and David Duke.

[ This entire aritcle is intended as a comedy sketch on race.  Take it with a grain of salt.  I am certainly not even concerned about race in America. The “xxx while Black series is simply a funny look at the ridiculousness of the country.  Normally it ends with the police shooting someone Black or arresting them for no apparent reason other than they are Black doing “xxxx” at the time, be it shopping, driving, golfing or walking.]

Please visit my legal website: Nevada DUI Attorneys
See me on YouTube: Seattle Cop Punches Black Teenage Girl

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shakaama

Ex law school student. I was kicked out for revealing I had a heart actually beating inside. I used to be in a modern dance company. I'm working on my 7 miracles to be proclaimed a saint by the pope. #1 is really hard, but once i get over that hump the other 6 will be a cinch.

3 thoughts on “Clubbing While Black”

  1. This is so true yet so sad, when we as black people classify ourselves according to our shades of black.

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