I've been to a grand total of one club in my life...the experience? Tiring...far too tiring...
Personally I can't dance like all the "cool kids". I don't deem dancing bobbing up and down on the spot, that's like saying cookery is making a sandwich. SO when I got on the dance floor and went to strut my stuff with my cool crowd homies (I'd like to point out for those who don't get sarcasm I am a COMPLETE nerd, after all I study Games Design ffs) I attempted to copy what everyone else was doing...it felt, unnatural to me, to say the least. Even after I downed a bottle of rum, nope, still wasn't feeling it. HOWEVER that was the problem, there was nothing else TO DO! SO I was stuck for a good 4 hours with my mates on the dance floor because we had undergone this weird state. I had my one friend who clearly liked to look natural but was instead the complete opposite, my other friend who was in the same situation as I and finally my last friend who I still say to this day went into a coma WHILE STILL DANCING.
Reason 2 for hating on clubs, they're loud. Now, I know this should be common knowledge, but hey as I say, first time ever. When I was at the bar I was trying to have a conversation with my mates a lot, but when they have to turn around and say "WHAT!?!" everytime like a parrot, me no happy bunny.
Reason 3, people are douches. No seriously, I despise humanity. When people just bump into each other, refuse to talk in an actual language and randomly attack you when you get pushed into them after tripping on a glass on the ground trying to break dance and having a burly rugby player almost smoosh you if you didn't move (this was a female I was pushed into yes) then I'm not gonna have a fun experience. I'd much rather sit back and make fun of people as they try to chat up people and fail.
See this is why I'm much more suited to the lounge/pub/bar experience. I like drinks, I hate loud noises, I like to make fun of humanity instead of be victim to it and I can't dance whatsoever. PERSONALLY my ideal best night out in the history of my life still remains to this day going up a hill, setting up camp and whipping out the midnight snacks and rum until morning roles by. Nothing quite like lieing back on the grass in a drunken state staring at the stars, while hearing your mate in the background scream BLOODY MURDER when a reed tickled his leg as he was taking a leak...good times...