Standing Observation

At the moment I am honestly all upset about some personal stuff that I’m going through. Depending on the situation I’ll either run to or from going out. This whole mess I put myself in, I’ve felt so alone inside my own skin that I’ve had to be around people as much as possible. I just want to be an anonymous face but there is just something soothing to me about being out.
Tuesday I went to my regular spot and it was really dead. The music wasn’t hitting me the right way and the crowd was … well interesting. There’s always the drunk. He’s so into the music, but I find it crazy that he is trashed every week by eleven o’clock. He’s one of the few out there dancing, which is usually closer to pacing forward and backward while shaking his bottle of beer around.
Then there’s the DJ’s crew; people who are there specifically for the person spinning at the time. This usually grows as the night goes on. More people that want to know the DJ or just want to look like they do. The girls always sit on the stage area, and it’s almost like clockwork that one of them will bump the set-up for the turntables and either skip, stall, or scratch the record playing at the time. The guys always have to stand as close to the DJ as possible, practically breathing down the poor person’s neck as they work. They’re right there when the DJ is choosing the next record. Or either sex will just stand directly in front of the turntables and watch.
There’s always at least one person that just really wants to dance. Usually it’s the people that just want to show off for five minutes. They are always backed by an entire group of friends that is holding down the bar but more than willing to cheer the representative on. These people go out for a few minutes and just bust a move the best and quickest way possible and then walk back to their crowd to be congratulated.
Closer to midnight these two girls jumped up onto the dance floor out of nowhere. Looking like the best of friends they were dressed all retro with fingerless gloves and funky belts. It was tough to admit but they were awesome dancers and the guys descended on the two of them without much of a wait. One of the bartenders that my friends and I call Captain Morgan because of his twirl-y mustache and beard came over to compliment them and hand over a bottle of water to each. The Captain was also one to dance whenever they didn’t need him behind the bar, and has been an avid promoter of getting the dance floor started. That’s how I met him more than a year ago. The thought made me feel old and out of the game.
I only stayed an hour and stood by the entire time. I was happy enough that I had somewhere to go and that I could listen to House music for just a little while in a laid back atmosphere with a sound system close enough to that of a club’s.
No one spoke to me the whole time nor did I even really want anyone too. I’ve been on a string of sadly miscarried meetings and another phone number was not going to make it better. I was out for my own reasons and happy enough for that alone. Something about being out alone again, and losing myself to the music made me feel more grounded. I haven’t forgotten who I was, or what I enjoy. Deep down I’m still the same person and I would make it through whatever life threw at me next.
Feeling calmer about life I drove back home.