Do You Like Money?

It always feels good to know that someone is interested in you.  That's why we all take time to look good before we go out.  I've been married for years now, and plan to stay that way, but it's still nice to know that I "still got it".  As I mentioned before, people don't even look at each other here, so I figured the club scene must be weird.  How could you interact with each other if everyone is looking straight ahead and avoiding eye contact like the plague?  My first weekend out, I quickly learned that alcohol is liquid courage x10 here!  People partying are having a good time.  The DJs have an engaged crowd here.  Most people are dancing.  That impenetrable circle of girls "just hanging with my friends and dancing" that is so prevalent in the US is virtually nonexistent here.  I mean, sure you'll have that poor guy walk up to dance with a chick that isn't feeling it and he gets shot down.  But it's not with the maliciousness of the women in the clubs in the States.  That look of, "How dare you bring your goofy ass up to me and try to grind all up on me?!" is replaced by a look of, "Not right now sweet man, but maybe later when I drink a bit more."

So my first weekend out, I enjoyed watching the interaction in the club.  I was with my homie who's connected and we skipped the line (like a boss, I might add).  This was our second club of the night, so we were naturally a few drinks in.  The DJ was playing some really good music and the crowd was into it.  We got some beers and I tried to look 2013 cool.  I probably looked cool for 2009, but that would have to suffice.  I was doing my groovin' two-step and people watching when I spotted this really drunk-looking, annoyingly loud guy yelling in some girl's ear.  She was ignoring him.  He stopped and moved on to another woman.  She smiled politely in a very sophisticated shoot down.  He understood.  I chuckled and said to my boy, "That dude is gonna piss somebody off."  He agreed and said he'd seen him being obnoxious all night.  Then the guy stumbled away into the crowd.  I danced a bit more and decided to get another drink.  Two-stepping looks stupid when your beer is empty!  I went to find my group and see who wanted in on the round.  This one was on me because I was still feeling like a boss.  I got the orders and hit up the bar.  This night was going to be fun.

Fast forward to the next empty bottle.  I had realized with my last trip to the bar that beer is FUCKING EXPENSIVE IN STOCKHOLM CLUBS!  That was going to be the last round for the crew.  I had to get my, "Oh, I couldn't find you or I would have gotten you a beer too" speech ready for my group.  Now was time to sneak away to get me another beer for this broken Two-step.  I slyly put my beer on a table by the mirror.  I turn around and head for the bar.  Just then I bump into the loud annoying guy from earlier.  He loses his balance a bit and I lean back a little, but reach out to make sure he doesn't fall into anyone.  He's good.  I'm good.  He goes into loud guy mode right in my ear.  He apologizes and I say it's all good.  Then he asks me if he can buy me a beer.  What a nice man!  Newly anointed Baller-On-A-Budget me would LOVE to have a free beer!  He's speaking in broken English to me and asking me questions as we fight through the crowd towards the bar.  I tell him the standard I'm from Miami, here because my wife is from here, blah blah blah.  I find out he's Egyptian and lives here now.  He says he loves to party and have a good time.  The women are beautiful here!  Nice.  I get my beer and we toast it up.  He pats me on my shoulder and we part ways.  What a nice man!

I meet back up with my boy.  I no longer have to use my beer speech because I have a beer from the loud guy.  I tell my boy.  He looks surprised but congratulates me on the score.  Nothing like free beer. He couldn't believe the same guy we were talking about bought me a beer.  We laughed and continued having fun.  What a night!  A few minutes later, Loud Guy comes back.  He begins trying to have a conversation with me in the club.  He's so close to my ear I tilt my head toward my left shoulder out of reflex.  You would think this was a universal sign to either stop talking so damn loud or stop talking so damn close.  He didn't get it.  He talked on and on.  I couldn't pick up on half of what he was saying, but I smiled and nodded, hoping the conversation would end soon.  Nope.  He went on for what seemed like ten minutes.  Then I heard the words, "Do you like money?!"  My ears perked up and I looked at him.  Unemployed/Newly-Anointed-Baller-On-A-Budget me said, "Hell yeah I like money! What's good?" He was still too close and my shoulder was still protecting my ear, but now I was listening intently.  Then he said:

"After this, you and me leave this club.  Go down the street.  Meet some my friends.  Little mmntuah, mmntuah.  You know?  Maybe..."

I tried my best to capture the disgusting sound this dude made in my ear through spelling, but picture a normal kiss sound with a half-moan at the front of it and the unavoidable smack you make after a spoonful of cereal at the end.  Now put that sound right up against your eardrum.  Yeah.

I got instantly pissed off.  I told Loud Guy to get away from me before I get any angrier.  It wasn't so much the offer, but that sound and how close he was to my ear that triggered something in me.  But Loud Guy wasn't finished.  He wanted to explain himself.  He threw both hands up in a no-harm, no-foul manner and said, "No, no.  It's not gay.  I'm not gay!  I'm Muslim, man.  I'm just saying we go.  Hang out, meet my friends.  Little mmntuah, mmntuah?"  He said that shit again!  Hands still up, shoulders shrugged.  Like it's a regular request.  I told Loud Guy to get lost.  I'm not interested in whatever he's talking about.  I think my facial expression and colorful language got the point across.  He walked away like it was my loss.

I partied on the rest of the night, but I told my homie about my near mmntuah, mmntuah encounter and he was cracking up.  He told me that I shouldn't just accept beer from anybody.  Sheeit.  Not the first and not the last!  If there's anything to take away from this story, it's the disarming phrase "I'm a Muslim".  I plan to use it in the future.  You should too.  Guys, you walk up to a woman; ask her if she likes money and wants to mmntuah, mmntuah a little.  If she gets offended, throw your hands up and say, "But I'm a Muslim."  Problem solved.  Until next time...


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