Discrimination at the dance club

A true story of my sexy life (or so I thought)

A few years ago, I started a blog for my writing. I had a growing community of fans, and we decided to meet out of cyberland. I was invited to a party in a famous dance club.

Instead of feeling deeply insulted, I decided to write about the following event.

It all started out nice. I told my ex-wife about the party. The invitation was for everyone regardless of gender, age, etc. I asked her if she wanted to join me. I felt that it would be really nice for me to finally meet all those women I did portraits of and dance with them in person.

“Of course, I want to join in,” she said. “Do you think I’d let you go to your women’s harem alone without me, dhu?”

“They are not mine, and I don’t even know what a harem looks like. I mean, I don’t remember anymore.”

So we arrived at the club after a silly-stylish delay. At the entrance, we saw this Selector lady with a silly-stylish blonde smile next to a man sporting a blonde braid. He was blocking our way in. We watched other people going in and I didn’t really understand why we couldn’t go inside as well.

‘May I get inside?’ I asked assertively.

The selector lady and ‘the braid’ looked at me as she said, "Sorry, we have an age limit restriction; you over 45?”

I tried to be funny. “My wife thinks I’m 16 mentally.” It didn’t work.

The braid turned his back to me. He said nothing. There was no need for words in those frigid moments. We understood each other very well. His braid was glistening in the dark night. There was something nice about the connection between them... and also between him and the Selector lady. I wondered who accepted him for this job, what his job interview had been like, and did he have to sleep with his boss to get this job?

The selector lady kept smiling but said nothing.

I felt so pissed off, frustrated, and deeply hurt. “Can you call the woman who invited me and tell her I’m waiting here?” I demanded.

Now let’s get this straight. I would have waited for that woman to let me in, but I felt anger growing inside me. I felt like I was getting older and older… minutes passed and no one came… I’m already 75 years old…feeling weak…I was looking for my walking stick… any stick… there was no one to talk to, no one to lean on…I was waiting quietly to be taken to the woods and left there to my final destiny…but what will happen to my blog? I felt bad…was this a dream… a nightmare… a daymare … What was it…is this real?

Yes, my friends. That was no dream. It really happened.

Watch out! Don’t get over the age of 45. If you can prevent it from happening, do it now, before it’s too late!

Have a great day. Let us all dance the selector’s dance now.

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