Hey, look at you. You survived Valentines Day, way to go. Being able to sneer at cute couples wandering around the streets and frequenting your favourite restaurants and holding hands between courses, those were good bits. Still feeling acutely single at the end of it, that’s lame.
So, like most of the lovelorn, you plan on hitting up you’re fave night spot this weekend to get over your singledom doing shots and hooking up with babes.
It is generally assumed that men and women frequent such venues to take advantage of the shall we say, ‘morally relaxed’ atmosphere and meet likeminded people with similar interests. Thus it follows that you can generally assume that when a guy buys you a drink, he really is just having a crack at getting your goodies and when a girl accepts that drink, its her way of letting you know she’s DTF.
Yeah, it sounds like a good idea for those who enjoy more hedonistic fulfillment, but what about those who want more from their encounters with fate at nightclubs? Usher proved you could make love in the club, but can you find love in the club?
Mary Donaldson, the ex-Australian bogan who got kissed by a prince and magically turned into Crown Princess Mary of Denmark*, met her price charming at a bar. Yeah, love and a real life prince, thank you mutual appreciation of alcohol.
But how applicable is this fairytale to real life? It’s all well and good to look for love in da club, but it’s another matter figuring out how well the feelings translate in real life. On that Saturday night under the strobe lights it seems like the real thing, but what about the next day?
Was that elated feeling real sparks? Or just all those drinks…?
Really love at first sight? Or beer goggles?
Are they still going to be the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in the harsh light of day when the buzz has worn off and the hangover kicks in.
I don’t want to say it, but since were all thinking it…will they still like you back or were you just a drunken mistake?
I agree, this is too confronting and scary.
So, maybe don’t trawl the clubs with an engagement ring looking for a finger that fits, or knock back every guy you meet until you get to the Prince of Monaco, but don’t discount that drunken mess that just introduced themselves to you. You know what they say, love is blind.
As in, blind drunk.
*Mary was probably never a bogan. She did take etiquette classes though. So…?
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