Skribbled Out

Another Friday night rolled out and this time I had my heart set on a specific activity. I really wanted to go see DJ Skribble spin at one of my favorite clubs. Problem was I didn’t really want to tackle the crowds and the waiting around by myself. A certain someone really wanted to go with me but had gotten suckered into working that night. So I had figured it was up to me to go brave the situation alone, or be lame and sit at home pouting about how I didn’t go out.
Walking out of work I noticed I had missed two calls from the man in question. He’d found a way out of working late, and was getting ready to go with me. I was completely excited! Since I had gone to see DJ Dan at another of my favorite clubs, who is a DJ God in my opinion, I have been totally hooked on seeing famous DJ’s live in the club scene. The experience is totally unlike any other venue you could put a DJ.
Well upon getting home, this exciting evening hit a snag. I started over-thinking the situation. Jumping on-line I checked out the website and tried to get as much info on the event as possible. I normally avoid this club on the weekends because it gets so crowded you can’t even move. I’m a dancer, remember, if I can’t move what’s the freakin’ point? Now with a big name in the building, cover was sure to skyrocket and as well as the length of the line to get inside. Being female I do tend to be cold all the time, also my gender relates to the lack of clothing I tend to wear when going to a club. This combined with standing in a long line at eleven o’clock at night equals freezing my butt off. Minus ten points toward my decision on whether I wanted to go.
My shortage of monetary funds was majoring influencing my increasing lack of enthusiasm. Cover was free until ten o’clock. Good news, but other than the possible rush at that particular time this was combined with past experiences with that club. You see this club is crafty. They open early and do indeed have good bartenders and some awesome appetizers, but… Half the club is the “meet and greet” section with private tables that can be reserved, two bars and a couple lobby areas that you can mill around in. The other half of the club is the dance floor, which doesn’t open until eleven o’clock. So now the later it gets the club is cramming what feels like the fire capacity for the entire building into the smallest section. And that’s the drill I’m use to dealing with on Thursday. Not a weekend.
I also know from past experience this club is very proud of its “After Hours” availability. They want to keep most of the crowd there until two o’clock and then get the rest of the city’s crowd to stay until four in the morning. This means that the opening DJ will spin from ten o’clock to midnight or later. DJ Skribble would do an hour or two and then the after hours DJ would take over at two o’clock.
What does this mean for me, who was already kind of tired at six o’clock? I would have to get ready for a very posh club, go pick up Mister Man, head to out to the club at about nine, pay for parking and possibly wait in line. By the time I was frozen solid we would hopefully get inside before ten or we would then pay cover. Now it’s the waiting game. I’m sure he and I would stake out a corner and either drink or stare at each other because it would be just a little too loud to do a whole heck of a lot of talking. The minutes would probably drag by while we both people watched and I cattily made fun of what other girls were wearing. The floor would finally open and the rush would be like a mosh pit. After that I would get in what dancing I could before it got crazy. I would find my protector and we’d stake out another safe spot in order to head bob to the music and wait for Skribble to get on the turntables. By then I would probably be yawning like mad, and probably wouldn’t want to stay through his whole set. We’d go home, and well I don’t know if either of us would have found that fun at all.
So now we’re back to square one. Not a whole lot of money, my boy having gotten out of work to spend time with me, and well it was still only six-thirty in the evening. We needed another plan. This activity is not one either of us is very good at.
Miracles of all, we actually came up with something relatively fun and cheep to do and headed out with high hopes. We also headed out in similar looking track jackets. This seemed to be the first hint as to how funny this night was going to end up being. Playing pool at the Jillian’s in the south end. And here is where the real misadventure began.
For some reason once we got into town, I started giving horrible directions and his driving skills were a little on the comical side. We stopped at a grocery store where some woman made a comment about us being twins. After that I got us lost and then found again, we actually came upon close, free parking. While Mister Man was attempting to parallel I happened to look over and notice that the pool hall, not only wasn’t open, but the inside was completely torn up as if they were out of business completely. At first we just started to curse and then laugh. So much for having a plan!
So back to the north end we headed. My friend had never been to this particular Jillian’s and with all the other little mishaps that had happened that night, he began to joke about what else could happen. I mentioned that I could introduce him to my bouncer friend, but that I wasn’t sure what his intentions were. “What are you saying?” my friend asked. “Am I going to get my ass kicked?” My loving assurance was that it would be an interesting addition to the night. I know I’m a bitch but it was too funny.
We did find free parking again, and this Jillian’s wasn’t on fire or closed down. So in we went. The wait to get a table on the other hand was an hour. By now it was ten-thirty and I was starting to yawn. Walking about I noticed my bouncer friend and went over to give him a hug. As always his hugs tend to lift a person off the ground. I also got a big ole’ kiss on the cheek. When I turned to introduce my friend, he had completely disappeared. I talked with the bouncer for a few minutes and then he left with his group of friends. Mister Man reappeared and I laughed at him. He had seen the size of the bouncer and vacated the situation. Like a smart man, he had decided not to test how bad this night could get, whether I was kidding or not. I wasn’t too offended; I’m really not worth a fight anyway.
We ended up walking around for bit and I just didn’t want to sit out the wait for a table. We went to into the arcade and tried to brain storm another idea. I had no money, and I knew he wasn’t really up for going to a club, which neither of us was dressed for. I felt totally tired and disappointed that for all the good intentions; nothing had really come of the night.
On the road again we ended up heading to a different place to just get dessert and hang out. Even that place was packed but we got a table without much of a wait. By then I was definitely tired but the chocolate cheesecake was definitely good. Talking over the night’s events I couldn’t help but still feel like a total loser for not really doing much. I also felt bad that, with what Mister Man did to get the night off, we should have done something more.
There is also something to be said for misadventures. You really learn about the other person in those situations. Do they stress easily? Are they quick thinking? How easily going are they? We had managed to laugh our way through the whole thing. It could have been very uncomfortable.
Heck of a night. Even now I’m not really sure we shouldn’t have just tried to go see DJ Skribble, but either way it did end up in a funny tale of misadventure.