Beyonce got it right when she said when these men start acting up, it’s time to put your freakum dress on!
I haven’t been to anyone’s club or lounge since my last date with Mr. Yesterday, when we went to Le Caire Lounge, and since then, I’ve been waiting for a chance to strut my stuff. I need to dance, to whine up my body, to feel the beat and let the rythm pulsate through my veins. I need to party.
One of my girlfriends and I plan to go out next Saturday night. I can’t wait. We’re going to get all done up and dance with each other, grind on men and tease them, have a few drinks, and get wild, but still stay classy. Then we’ll head home when the club is ready to shut down and everything is over, and crawl into bed, pissy drunk, and pass out. The next day, we’ll talk about whatever we can remember and laugh. I can’t wait.
I deserve to be fawned over, by helpless men that wait on an opportunity to get close to me, but somehow, know that the dance is the farthest they’ll get. I’m not one of those chicks that look for love in the club. I just want to be every man’s fantasy for the night. I miss that feeling. I’m not even looking to get numbers, but it’s inevitable. Can you blame them? I’m hott! Plus I’m a thicky thick one, so you already know! Just tuck in yuh belly and watch dem part like you just drop a rod in the red sea! This must be why I always manage to get into VIP, EVERYTIME I go out. I can’t wait.
So all I’m thinking about right now is hair, nails, face, dress, shoes, smoothe hair- free skin, smelling right and mind right the day before. I may just take off work to establish that it’s done perfectly. I just wanna get FANCY. I can’t wait.
Can you tell I’m excited?