Congratulations, You’re Now the Old Bitch at the Club!

You cats can't keep up like you used to.

Nikki: I have a fiancé now. Sean.
Richard: Get out of here. You're getting married?
Nikki: Yeah.
Richard: Nikki Tru is walking down the aisle?
Nikki: I'm closing the deal. Sean is in real estate.
Richard: What happened?
Nikki: Uh... I was at this party. I was talking to this guy - I don't even remember what we were talking about - and... this little 22-year-old girl walks by. And he was like,”Oh, excuse me, I got to...“ Then it hit me. You know, I'm 32 years old. I'm the old bitch at the club now. Think it was the first time in my life I was talking to a man who wasn't even thinking about fucking me. So, then I met Sean. And I said to myself, I got to make this work. So we're getting married in June.
(Source: I Think I Love My Wife)

They're good with me, but still...

Every woman comes to that point in her life when she’s got to warm up to the idea that it’s not going to last forever. They don’t all reach this point at the same time, for some it will take longer than others. But the day will come when they will look in the mirror and realize, “I’m the old bitch at the club.” A few years ago people rocked with you like you was the best thing on the block, they even rearranged their schedules to get in line. A few years later, they look at you like a throwback. Nothing you can do about that; age is a part of life, a part of life that affects women way more than it affects men. Keep it real, looks matter way more in the assessment of women, than it does to men. To me, nothing is wrong with age, I think age is beautiful. I think as a woman gets a few years on her, she gets security, confidence and a sense of understanding. Insecurity is an immature trait, and those women who need attention from a man to make their day better annoy. Confidence can cover up every blemish. Kerry Washington’s teeth are crooked as Pisa but you ain’t going to tell her that her smile couldn’t light New York City. And a sense of understanding is wisdom, I can sit and listen to a woman who has lived and reached a sense of understanding for hours; chin in hand, following each word from corner to corner of her lips.

Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, lol. Despite all of that, I do not want any woman to be the old bitch in the club and it’s a few reasons why.

Find yourself riding around with white people
using the n-word -- a LOT.

1. You find yourself doing little girl shit – Do you remember the first time you drank? Everyone has a story they’d like to be proud of, but it ends up making me judge their parents. Listen here, stop telling people your parents let you drink around them when you was like 12. That lets me know something about your upbringing. But the better question is do you remember the first time you were drunk? That shit wasn’t fun. It was cool to have a little alcohol on your breath or to be able to tell a story the next day, but it was NOT cool to have the ambulance called to Room #636 in Day Hall to pump your stomach freshman year. Remember something, “When you get wasted, not only do you ruin your night, you ruin everybody else’s night too.” Listen babe, it’s cool to sip and whatnot, but it’s not cool to be over the age of 27 throwing up all over the bathroom. It’s not cool for you be sitting in the VIP, legs open, sipping crushed ice, fanning yourself, and everybody standing over you saying, “You’re okay... you’re okay.” Do you know what little girls do? They think their little hot asses are invincible and nobody cares. That’s a damn lie, everybody cares. When you’re a 22 year old pipsqueak and you get drunk, dudes are looking for the tag and come in like the Legion of Doom and knock bodies down. When you’re 30, come out the club and get in car with some dude not named your boyfriend, who is married now, but everybody knows you been messing with him since you were 22, we ask ourselves, “when is this bitch gonna grow up and stop getting drunk?” And the last thing little girls do is fight. I was at work one day and my coworker was telling me about how her and her girls almost got in a fight at the Renaissance. First, that coworker was my manager. Second, if you are at a party in a hotel and DJ Kid Capri is the reason why your ass went, then your ass is old. And old people need not be fighting in the club.

Ain't nothing about you like a virgin.

2. Everybody knows your ass – Don’t you want to go where everybody knows your name? Not if you’re a woman. “If too many people know your name, change it … and then change it again.” – S. P. Diddy Combs. Think of it this way, the hottest clubs are the ones that not everybody knows about, there’s exclusivity. But when you walk in the club and it seems like every dude in the joint knows who you are, it looks like you been around the block. And yes, but what do they know? Valid question, irrelevant question. Remember, “it’s not what you can prove, it’s what people think.” You want to be in a place where not everybody knows your name, where everybody doesn’t know your history, you want people to hold you in a certain light, the high light. When it’s a man, he’s well respected as he ages and it seems like everybody pays respect before they go to the bar, get a drink and get at ratchets. When it’s a woman, think about it like Lisa Raye, Lauren London and Paula Patton. When those girls first came out they was fresh meat, they was the things dreams are made of. A few years later and everybody know about their ass and now they just as basic as the next light skin chick in Hollywood. And now Zoe Kravitz winning over here.

That's messed up your friends left you like this...

3. You can’t keep up with the young b*tches – I was out on a Wednesday, a work night, I had work in about 8 hours and I was in the club. It was 11:30 and the club was empty. I was waiting on a friend because it was her birthday so I knew it was going to be a long night, but she was nowhere to be found. Now I realized that it wasn’t my birthday and I wasn’t sleeping with this girl so I wasn’t trying to buy a bottle or nothing, so I did what every other cheap ass dude does on an occasion like this, I got to the club before 11PM like we all should do more often. Anyway, I’m in this club, trying to sip a $9 drink as slow as possible because I got work in EiGHT hours. At 12:30, the club started to fill up, but it still wasn’t packed. “It’s Wednesday!” I thought to myself. Almost as soon as I said that, like clockwork, I went to the bar to get a drink which took about 10 minutes and I turn around and the club is packed! These young b*tches came to the club at 12:50 ready to get it in. They walked in with their best dresses on, 5 inch heels, and salon curls. (Look here, if you want to see which of those chicks ain’t got jobs, look at the size of those curls. Grown ass women do not spend $300 on a curling iron.) It was around the same time that all the old chicks in the club was like, “Shit what we gon’ do now to keep the guy’s attention?” They ain’t got a chance, their ass is tired. Look if I can’t keep up with a generation whose jeans get tighter every other Friday and color arrangements get more outrageous on the 1st and 15th, then there’s no way you can keep up with these little women who are doing everything in their power to use their looks to get a free drink and couch to stand on. Them young girls can club night to night, when you’re old, you can’t do two nights in a row even when you’re on vacation. When you’re young you start drinking at a cookout at noon and you party until 7AM the next morning. If you start drinking at noon on Saturday, your ass will be sleep by 8PM and you not making it out the next day. Hangovers last until you eat and drink a glass of water at 21, when you’re 30 hangovers last two or three days.

You ain't slick Eva, your ass getting old too!

4. You need to tuck this in and cover that up – Keep it real, no matter how much you try, unless your name is Stacey Dash after a certain age, your body isn’t going to look like a 22 year old’s again. Because of that fact of life, they created contoured clothing and all types of stuff to help you cover up your blemishes. When you were 19, you could afford to say, “I hate wearing a bra,” when you’re 35, put a damn bra on, nobody want to see your breasts giving everybody thumbs down in the club. And as you get older, bras get more expensive because they got to do more work. If you need spanx to keep it all in the right place, then maybe you should find something that is more fitting to your body type. And if you have flip flops in your purse because your feet can’t take standing in heels all night anymore, reevaluate your wardrobe. Point is, at a certain point, you’re wasting more money on keeping your beauty than should ever be spent. Look Michelle Obama is older than Barack, quite frankly, if that guy has gray hair, then you KNOW, Michelle has a few, but you won’t see one! Michelle ain’t in the club though, she’s in the oval office and she can afford to keep dying her hair every two weeks. But if you need to get that jet black hair dye kit every two weeks to keep touching up, your grays… embrace that sh*t boo boo, your ass is getting old. A gray streak is cool, gray strays are not. Muffin tops and feet that look like Bojangle biscuits are a sign that it’s time to take it home from the club.

5. You’re ready to settle for less than desired options – I went to my boy for some advice on some thoughts I had about a few women that we’ve idolized since we graduated from college. He’s a few years ahead of me and I asked him, “Let’s say a dude wifed her down and threw a ring on it, would people look at him like he won, or would they look at him like the dude she finally settled down with?” No matter how we sliced that pie we kept coming up with the same solution, if you wait until the girl has decided that she’s ready to settle down, you’re never the first option, you’re the last. As women get older they have to think about their “draft position.” The older you get, you may be able to still pull a couple guys in the club, but those rookies are threatening to take your spot. You’re no longer in your prime, you’re looking at retirement. I’ve seen some chicks in the club who were like Brett Favre, trying to give it that last go. If I had to break old b*tches in the club down in terms of football analogies; the older chick who on any given day could give a younger sister a run for her money, like a Stacey Dash is Brett Favre with the Jets, she can still find a job, but we all know she’s 43. The older chick who really doesn’t have any business still out there trying to play with the little b*tches even though she still got a fatter ass than most of them, like a Lisa Raye is Brett Favre with the Vikings. That older chick who’s not quite that old, but she got a kid so dudes take that into consideration when deciding if they want to deal with her, like a Lauren London is Jim Tressel. LOL… I’m sorry I was waiting to say that all post long, anyway you get the point.

This is just nasty...

I try and told my female friends how to change their reputations from being considered boppers to being taken seriously and it always came down to; act your age not your shoe size, know your size not what size you used to be, and stop being in the damn club all the time. If you don’t hear anything I’ve ever said just pay attention to this, you can’t do everything a man can do, sometimes you have to do what a woman has to do. Men are lying if they say they don’t go to the club to meet a girl, my mom and dad met at a party, my aunt and uncle met at a house party thrown by the same people, it happens. I tell you one thing though, my mom wasn’t 32 when she met my dad, she was 24 or 25, it made sense that she was still frequenting the scene. When a man is looking at a chick that’s gotten a little older and she’s in the club playing the field, or trying to get chose, questions just run through his head all night long. Why is she here? Is she still talking to that promoter? Seriously, no shoes on? You 30 with no shoes on in the club? I wonder when she’s going to figure out that she’s not 25 anymore? It’s Tuesday, how do you have a real job if you in the club at 2AM on a Tuesday? (I’m lying like shit, how I know she there if I’m not? LMAO.) Anyway y’all see my point. Don’t be asked to leave the club, leave on your own accord. You just don’t ever want to be in the position where you have to hear this:

Debbie: I'm not gonna go to the end of the fucking line, who the fuck are you? I have just as much of a right to be here as any of these little skanky girls. What, am I not skanky enough for you, you want me to hike up my fucking skirt? What the fuck is your problem? I'm not going anywhere, you're just some roided out freak with a fucking clipboard. And your stupid little fucking rope! You know what, you may have power now but you are not god. You're a doorman, okay. You're a doorman, doorman, doorman, doorman, doorman, so... Fuck You! You fucking fag with your fucking little faggy gloves.
Doorman: I know... you're right. I'm so sorry, I fuckin' hate this job. I don't want to be the one to pass judgement, decide who gets in. Shit makes me sick to my stomach, I get the runs from the stress. It's not cause you're not hot, I would love to tap that ass. I would tear that ass up. I can't let you in cause you're old as fuck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.
Debbie: What?
Doorman: You old, she pregnant. Can't have a bunch of old pregnant bitches running around. That's crazy, I'm only allowed to let in five percent black people. He said that, that means if there's 25 people here I get to let in one and a quarter black people. So I gotta hope there's a black midget in the crowd.
(Source: Knocked Up)