| Dec092007 | They Are Playing The Same Old Songs |
Right now? 9am on a Sunday morning. I’m trying to make sense of last night. I think I’m understanding this clubbing thing now. At least, I think I understand why some feel compelled to go practically every week to the same handful of clubs.
I’ve started buying Jagerbombs. I used to buy beers all the time in clubs and then I tried to look more savvy with mixed drinks and shots. Recently, it’s been vodka and Red Bull because caffeine is my drug and it always will be. Alcohol is a tawdry mistress I flirt with every once in a while but caffeine is what I come back to time and time again. Thus, we arrive at the Jagerbomb. Goes down a lot smoother and I just shot it instead of trying to dance with a glass in my hand.
Credit goes to that time we were wandering from club to club trying to find somewhere good, I just see Mike leave the group and do a Jagerbomb all on his own. Sure, I might have been observing alcoholic behaviour there but to me it was so much less complicated than either spending half the night with a glass in your hand or trying to convince the rest of the group to do shots. Bonus is that vodka is the spirit that summons the horrific queasy memory in me.
There are two things that still baffle me to this day about clubbing. One is how people hook up in clubs. Just like how one can be ignorant to the steps of the foxtrot, I am ignorant of the steps to the approach and subsequent bagging and tagging of girls. My friend David has turned this into a nearly subconscious process where he will actually go to a club intending to meet an acquaintance but instead ends up leaving with a girl on each arm and forgetting why he went to this club in the first place. Like when your parents get forgetful and wonder what they are doing in the bathroom holding the electric kettle.
The other thing is hearing people talk. I cannot do it. People yell in my ear and I hear a mish-mash of human sounds. There is nothing recognizable in there. It is getting to the point where I want to take a sign language course just to solve this problem. I was conversing with someone last night and I knew we went through the topics of Seattle, work and other cities we’ve lived in. For the rest of the night, I had to avoid these topics because otherwise I might let slip that I wasn’t actually listening. This is how I deal with my social ineptitude: I shut up and hope nobody notices.
Anyway, I’m going to be spending the rest of my morning being hungover. Because I’m old and I get hungover now. Somebody come pick me up for a greasy brunch.
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