I Whipped It Out On a Date! (The Club)

by D.J. Paris on January 29, 2013

I did something uncool on a date recently.

When I was parking my car outside of her townhouse, I applied The Club to my steering wheel.

Now, I am acutely aware that The Club is not fashion friendly. It’s not as bad as producing a two-for-one coupon at Dennys on a first date, but it’s similar.

First, it’s a subtle sort of insult. I didn’t mean it this way, of course. I use The Club everywhere. The only places I don’t deem it necessary are at grocery stores and other retail-like places.  I’m not a Club maniac, for chrissakes.

I do, however, live in an area that is not exactly safe. We have gangs who roam about. Plus, I’ve had a few cars broken into over the years. The Club is a mainstay even in my gated parking place.

Side story – When I first got my condo I wanted a roommate to help with the mortgage. The woman I selected was a chemist PhD from Stanford. On her first day here some gentleman threw a brick through her rear windshield. What’s even more disturbing is that he didn’t steal anything. Just interested in bashing windshield, I guess. Someone who will smash a window and not even have the initiative to go and steal the contents inside the car is not the kind of individual I want loitering in the neighborhood. She was beside herself and my only response was to remind her that she had signed a twelve month commitment to pay rent. She took off two months later. We did have a party once and she brought all of her nerd friends. That was awesome. Otherwise she sort of sucked.

I didn’t realize it might appear to my date that I thought she lived in a shit part off the city. In fact, she lives in a perfectly nice area of Chicago and her townhouse is beautiful.

I’d like to point out that she has three pets that all shed and yet there isn’t a hair anywhere on the floor or furniture. These are what we in the dating business call a “good quality.” Pet ownership and cleanliness goes a long way in my book. Never understood what book that idiom was referencing. Probably the Bible or some crap.

After I whipped out and applied the device to the steering wheel, she deadpanned, “Please write about how much I hate The Club.”

I read recently that it only takes about an extra minute to get through The Club if a burglar is motivated. She echoed this saying it does nothing to detract thieves.  I looked at her for a moment, sobered by this conversation. Then she laughed, not at me, but at the idea of a guy applying metal to the steering wheel as a safety precaution. Seriously, none of us (except me) have seen a Club since that one scene from Swingers. And it was ridiculous then.

I started to laugh, too.

These are the moments I long for when I’m most lonely. To share a laugh with someone that is genuinely funny. When it’s at my expense, even the better. The comments on this blog are a testament to my insane thoughts and actions. You guys call me out on my stupidity. It’s grounding.

To me one of the most attractive qualities in a woman is for her to bust balls in a caring way. It’s a delicate and difficult stretch. Too far one way and you’re a bitch. But done correctly it’s a connecting experience. Laughing at someone in this way exposes the silliness and true humor that exists naturally in life. But these jokes are hidden if you’re alone. I’m reminded how important genuine friendships are. Normally I’m driving alone. In that moment with her I had a copilot laughing at something that I had forgotten was funny.

Now, wait until she finds out I dance in the bathroom with the door closed and the headphones on pretending I’m not one, nor two, but all three of the Beastie Boys. At the same time.

beastie boys

I’m really mostly an AD-Rock.

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