I have been in so many clubs in this world that it is almost ridiculous. From world class clubs in Miami, LA, NY, London, Barcelona, and Tel-Aviv, to low class hole in the walls in Dublin, Helsinki, and Sacramento. Hip Hop, RnB, Rock, Country, Techno, House, you name it, I’ve bounced to or from it. All this to say one thing. Basically the same people are in every club. Different people of course, but they take the shape of the same characters. Kind of like when they tried to change the mom in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Here are some of the all stars that stick out in your mind the next day. The types of people that almost make you want to just stay at home and re-evaluate your nightlife. Almost. In keeping with our prime numbers theme, here come eleven hot off the press club entities.

1. The chick/dude that keeps running over to the DJ (not me thank God) and requesting songs:

Listen, if the DJ needed your help, they wouldn’t have a job. The only thing separating them from the customers is the fact that it’s their job to spin the records. Requests are for radio station callers asking to play some sappy song for someone they A) want to bone or B) trying to get back…and then bone. Leave them alone and let them do their job as human MP3 players.

2. The hard gangster in the corner:

His hat will be skewed at some inexplicable angle, preventing a facilitated read of his current demeanor. The questions abound: Do I know him? Should I talk to him? I wonder if he knows so and so?… This is the most tenuous of all club-related situations because of the many outcomes an encounter can bring. Let me walk you through it. You have to “Check His Temperature”. This is done by walking past him and giving him the black person head nod, the universal club sign of peace. The responses from said surly gangster should be as follows:

a) Quick up nod, with slow down nod, lips turned up – Cool to tepid temperature. Very approachable, especially if a smile accompanies the down nod. Feel free to walk around normally.

b) Slow up nod, quick down nod, with quizzical look on his face – Medium to warm temperature. He is clearly agitated that you wanted your presence acknowledged. Although rebuffed, do not act afraid, as fear is a pheromone for club gangsters. Your only threat is whispered disses throughout the posse on your tight shirt. Feel lucky, but do not corner him.

c) Quick up nod, no down nod, arms reaching for 9mm or switchblade, face adorned in a grimacing scowl – Hot to scorching temperature. This man has brought some outside problem into the club with him and came for the sole purpose of trouncing some poor schmuck to boost his self-esteem. Congratulations. Run.

3. The person with dreads:

Eeewwww… Dreads look bad on anyone, but especially white people. The only plus side to their company is that you can call them “Predator” the rest of the night. Oh, and they probably have oodles and oodles of “dat sticky green”. Marijuana, you idiot.

4. Pukey:

This person mixed wine, fruity drinks, beer, shots, cigarettes, and pot and is paying a dear surcharge for each one all at once…or twice, or more. The best part about these people is when you tell the bouncer they are puking and get them kicked out. This works best with someone you know so you can laugh at them the next day and as a bonus you don’t have to take care of them the rest of the night.

5. The person with one dance for every song, no matter what it is:

Since club gangsters don’t dance (they groove), they are excluded. I am talking about everyone else. Like the dude dancing to techno beats even though it’s a rap song. Or the chick with the elbows-bent-fists-over-the-head dance that seems to reboot at the end of every song. If you are like me and can’t dance, stand near the bar or sit down and drink. Please. And when asked to dance, flat out refuse or say you tore your hamstring. Say anything to keep your pitiful ass off the dance floor. This line should suffice: “Dancing is for girls, when you wanna have sex, come holla at me…” It’s a win-win situation.

6. The “Professional Dancers” who do routines in the club:

Chicks actually go to clubs to practice their routines whether they are a stripper, a dancer for the Miami Heat, or both. If your job necessitates you to practice your craft in a place where it’s full of smoke, drunken horny guys, and deafening music, you need to switch careers. That’s just the bottom line. But boy are they fun to look at!

7. Johnny Cage:

Some clubs have cages. Cages in which hot women are supposed to gyrate on each other to extremely fast or slow paced songs. Not dudes. And not exceedingly sweaty drunk dudes who dance like they could work at Chippendale's, thus earning them this moniker. This crotch boil isn’t even gay or anything; just a self absorbed 24 Hour Fitness asshole. I secretly hope every time I see JC he has a heart attack in the cage and no one tries to save him because they think he is still dancing.

8. The chick with a belly shirt who should NOT be wearing a belly shirt:

From the top of her jeans pours an outcropping of stretch-marked flesh further accentuated by the belly shirt barely covering her crater-like navel, which is pierced with what looks like a bracelet, and a once colorful butterfly tattoo. Yes, it sounds gross. Because it is gross.

9. The guy wearing the polar opposite sized shirt:

Why is it that skinny-ass guys wear ginormous-sized jerseys and t-shirts, and the gigantic muscle heads wear the smallest shirts they can find? I have always found this hilarious. I believe the reason is the skinny-ass guy needs the added layers to hide his weapon of choice for the night and the huge dude wants everyone to see his guns (pun intended). Even stranger is neither one would win in a fight. It’s always the guy wearing a button up shirt that will win. I have witnessed this unexplained phenomenon on several occasions. Remember, always bet on buttons. As a side note, why is there always a guy that wears a turtleneck in the club? I do not know of one club that is even remotely cold, or for that matter feels any different than an Amazon jungle. It is OK to spill drinks on these people.

10. The Club Dumper:

The most diabolical club entity of all time. I mean seriously. Who goes to a club and says, “Man this club is jumpin’! I need to go take a shit!!” Who takes a shit in the club!? I have seen this and it has always vexed me. The LAST thing on my mind when I am surrounded by booze and chicks is dropping a stinky load. Have you not seen the bathroom stalls? JT and I have been in bathrooms in both England and Ireland where the urinals are open, but there is a line for the stalls. A line that if you choose to wait in you are advertising that you have to deuce in public. A line which people wait in with no shame. Let me tell you, shame on you Club Dumper, shame on you.

11. The Club Humper:

This person gets low on every dance and just grinds away at their partner. Sometimes I even expect to see smoke and sparks from the friction. This person is a combination of numbers 5,6, and 7 with a splash of social and sexual depravity mixed in. And they always dance with their mouths slightly open in the “Oh” position aka “Puff Daddy Mouth”. The worst thing about this person is that they might not even be drunk, just in the mood to get their grind on, which may result in them leaving a stain on your pant leg…

It’s obvious this list can go on for the remainder of time itself. The world is a crazy place, and its clubs are even crazier. Sometimes you just have to wonder what some of these people are thinking, unless you happen to be one of them, in which case…wow. But at the end of the day, you are just as insane as they are. This is because somehow you are in the same place they are. You can’t really make fun of someone if you both paid an $8 cover charge and a $2 coat check fee to be in the same place. Then it’s time to look at the man in the mirror and say to yourself, “Why do I go to these places?” The answer is to get sauced and make an ass of yourself. That’s why. And the conversation it brings up the next day is always priceless. “Hey man, do you remember last night when…” are how legends begin. Because really, if you aren’t making fun of someone else for doing what you are doing, what else is there to talk about?