No matter what club or bar you are at, whether it is a local college dive or an up-scale city lounge, there are certain types of people that you are bound to run into. Here’s a quick run down of who to look out for.
The promoter is the first person to greet you inside the club, or, more likely, the person who loudly accosts you a few blocks away by poking you with fliers and drink cards until you finally give in and take one. The promoter you meet inside the club will mysteriously find out your name, add you on Facebook and proceed to invite you to more ALL CAPS SUPER INTENSE CRAZY COLORS AVICII THEME PARTY FREE DRINKS FOREVER events than you could possibly imagine.
Super White Girl
She’s there with at minimum of ten friends, her hair is in a “trendy pony,” and her bronzer can only be described as dense. It may be thirty degrees outside, but she has spent most of the night standing in line in a tiny bandage skirt and five-inch heels, giggling to her friends about how excited she is to get inside. Later she may be found crying on the phone in the handicap stall or having a particularly intense DFM (dance-floor-make-out) with her counterpart, Super White Guy.
*Author’s Note: I am a super white girl. We know how we look. We’re going to keep doing it anyway.
OGL – Out to Get Laid
The OGL rolls deep and travels in a pack of equally sex-deprived meatheads who are all looking for booze and girls. If you’re dancing in a circle with your friends (white girls, I’m looking at you) and facing inward, guard your butt tirelessly! At any given moment the OGL could be about to pounce and rub his crotch all over you.
The Old Guy
The Old Guy looks as though he has confused the nightclub for the nursing home. He is old enough to actually be able to afford the $15 drinks (sketchy in and of itself), and is sipping one casually as he lurks alone on the dance floor wearing Ed Hardy or the European equivalent. Why is he there? Does he just want to dance? Does he want to meet someone? Does he want to lure you outside and kill you, and then throw your body into the East River? His intentions are very unclear.
Standing in the sequestered VIP area and bobbing his head to the beat of indistinguishable EDM songs as he surveys the room, the VIP is convinced that he is the king of the club. I say “he” only because women rarely pay for tables at night clubs; we already know that men will pay for them in hopes of attracting women. The VIP likes to “pop bottles” and “get money,” and is on a power trip; only he can choose who gets to stand at his tiny table and make him feel important. Since most clubs you’ll go to in college are not that nice, the VIP is probably not very important at all, but he would have you think that he is.
Image: A Lovely Dai