Ruby Blue < Strawberry Moon

The chances of meeting someone at a club worth talking to or even dancing with are low.  The chances of it happening twice are none.  These odds definitely played out at the club tonight.  I wanted, as last time, to go out with my friends, swing my hips a bit, and let the music speak to me.  At Strawberry Moon I could do all three.  Not one time did I have someone decide it was their right to appear behind me, grab my ass, my hand, my face, kiss me, grind with me, or force me to indicate my need to be rescued with the clever use of a safety gesture.  Ruby Blue was all about it though.  Thrice we had to rescue one of our own from a guy.  The same dude!  And when he still didn't get the hint, he had to be actually pushed away by several of us pulling stern faces and fist to cuffs.  It was as if Port 'o Call and Green Street had a baby.  A baby who came out with a popped collar, smelling of Axe.