Holy Trinity

As I left work on a Friday evening, with a paycheck that included retro pay from my newly acquired raise in my bank account, I felt seriously depressed that it had been a while since I’d gone out and really done something, either by myself or with friends. The money was burning a hole in my virtual pocket and I wanted to spend it on clothes for work and other stuff. Heading out shopping with a friend I also made a couple phone calls to see what sort of trouble I could stir up for the night time hours.
Like a wonderful trooper, Jimmy called me back and we devised a plan to hit a new club that neither of us had been to but had heard so much about. After getting the details of what was to go down that night, my only job was to pass the word along to Steve and be looking damn sexy by the time we were to meet up at eleven o’clock. I went on with my evening thinking to myself that I had all the time in the world since eleven was so terribly far away and late for even me to be heading out at.
So I shopped and I achieved tons of goals that I had intended to solve with all the money that needed to be spent. It wasn’t until my friend and I were at the last stop that I realized it was just about the time I was suppose to be leaving and I was still standing in the middle of a Fred Meyer trying to find pants hangers for the love of God. That put a rush on things.
Hurrying home, I changed in a flurry, not really going for sexy but for comfortable because in the back of my mind, as I got ready and headed out the door with my friend in tow, I was really nervous about hitting this new club alone when I had no idea what I was facing. Alone was fine and dandy when I knew my surroundings inside and out. I’m a terrible creature of habit. Knowing that I can park, walk to the club a safe distance away, get inside without a hassle, and have a general idea of the layout as well as the atmosphere that I’m sticking myself in; I’m all good. If anything in that equation goes awry, I’m usually tempted to just go home. My independent sense of safety goes right out the window.
Now in this particular situation I was heading out to a club that was just right around the corner from my usual Saturday night spot. I knew the area very well but other than what my friend James had told me, I had no idea about anything that would be past the wooden doors with it’s blacked out glass and red velvet curtains. My curiosity was definitely peeked, yet I was still hesitant about the whole affair.
Dropping my friend off, I headed into the city with that sense of nervous anticipation still sitting in the pit of my stomach. I was even starting to worry that I was heading into a bad situation. I’ve always been one to trust instinct especially when I’m out by myself. It’s like this extra special sense that sends up a big physical warning that will keep your ass out of trouble. That physical warning response for me is either an odd tingly feeling that’s hard to describe or the stereotypical scary sensation of having the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Whenever these things happen I head the opposite direction, don’t get out of my car, or just plain old go home. Something bad is headed my way if I keep on my present course. Even my DJ friend had told me that more than once he had listened to that little feeling, and it saved him from some bad scrapes. At this moment in time I was really trying to figure out if it was my insecurities or an actual warning.
I found a spot in the cheep lot that Nicole and I usually hit when we go out. I had been worried that since it was past eleven by the time I even got into the city that I would end up frustratedly circling the block trying to find just one empty space. That is like my hugest pet peeve. I hate dealing with parking. Instead I slid right into a spot and breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was it directly across from the club, but I also wasn’t going to be paying as much as I normally did.
From the exit off the freeway all the way to my perfect parking I was on the phone with Jimmy, chatting but mostly talking a lot of smack about how they had better hurry and catch up with me. He and Steve were on their way from Jimmy’s place, which meant they were probably only two cars ahead of me the whole time we had been talking. Moving from the car to the pay machine, my nervousness about walking into the club alone and trying to find them later had me practically begging them to park in the same garage as I had. My independence was in total protest, I was a big girl and it was just a stupid club. How terrible could it all be? Yet deep down all I really wanted was an escort through the club just once, so that I could get my bearings. After that the guys could leave me to my own devices and I knew I would be okay.
Looking like a total freakin’ club chick, there I was in my tight black pants and black Puma track jacket, talking away on my phone as I stood in front of the machine that took the payment for the parking garage. There I stood like the machine was too complicated for my puny mind, blocking the way for the guys behind me that were waiting for me to figure my shit out. Realizing how stupid I looked I hung up the phone and immediately realized two more things. One light bulb moment was that the price was not as cheep as I had hoped, and the other was that I had not even looked at the slot number so I couldn’t even start the whole payment process anyway. Stashing my phone in my pocket and stomping back to my car, I felt like a total idiot.
By the time I got the ticket face up on my dash and walked back to the street, Steve and Jimmy were walking my way from where ever they had parked. After an awesome hug from both of them, my nervousness melted away. I knew that I was okay and that the night was going to be good. The three of us crossed the street and after a little confusion as to where the door was we passed the mysterious front doors with out any cover required.
Inside was nothing I could have expected. It had been a very popular hip-hop joint prior to this complete remodel. I never went in to that club either but it had gotten such a run down, ghetto reputation that I think it was still sitting in my mind as I walked in the door. Stopping on the other side of the velvet curtains that blocked the entrance, I had to stare all around me. This was no ghetto joint. It was all gothic pillars and red velvet curtains. There were chandeliers and plush leather couches. This place was seriously amazing.
The entrance was the first bar and had it’s own DJ spinning in an area that was half way between the main floor and the second floor balcony. It looked like a little “puppet show” stage with curtains on either side. Behind that DJ was a small VIP area.
To the right was the Hip Hop Room. This was all bright white floors and furniture set up in a more intimate fashion because of the size of the room. The DJ booth was at the same halfway height. Up the stairs was the bar and a lounging area that lead through both behind the Lobby DJ and into the next room.
The House Room had a huge upstairs lounging area that looked down on the dance floor. Down the stairs was a long island style bar the stuck out into the huge room like a catwalk. Above the bar was this amazing electric chandelier that was made to look like candle flames. The DJ area was up on high, just a step down from the VIP area that extended beyond that section of the room on the second floor, a bouncer was stationed at the end of the roped off stairs to guard against riff raff. Where the Hip Hop Room was bright white, the red velvet that surrounded the DJ area dominated everything in this room. There was no furniture on the main floor and everything else was black, as if to fade it into the background, leaving the DJ the total focal point.
The last time Steve had been there he had been drunk so it was like all three of us were walking through the club for the first time. After checking out the entire place we headed back to the lobby to order drinks and wait for the rest of the crew to show up. I was looking forward to meeting more people as well as some I already knew and hadn’t seen in a while. Even though they offered to buy me drinks I didn’t want anything to do with alcohol that night. I just wanted water and a wholesome night of dancing ahead of me. I’ve been on this health kick (again) with the increase in my waistline. Having terrible trouble motivating myself to run, I was going to get a whole work out in with dancing if it was the last thing I did.
Jimmy could tell that I was more anxious to dance rather than sit in the lobby and hang out drinking. The lobby scene was dead anyway. Moving back into the House Room with drinks in hand, the boys followed me and stood by observing the scene while I tried to get comfortable in the large room. I really was hoping to feel at home in this beautiful club, especially since the focus was totally on the House side of the music industry. The idea of such a place being like the club I called my “Cheers” when I lived in the South end was really exciting. It was a rather empty room still with small groups huddling toward the comfortable safety of the wall rather than take up a whole lot of space on the floor. My only hang up was finding a place to stash my track jacket yet the vibe was still too low key in the room for me to feel comfortable about just busting out. Especially since Jimmy was in drink mode at the moment and not about to join me should I take to the floor in all my flair.
Looking up to the DJ booth to watch for a bit, I had no idea who the person spinning was, but the atmosphere he had going was really awesome. It was more the European sort of progressive house, rather than the normal hard house or breaks that a lot of DJ’s seem to be attracted to. It was laid back in and of itself, but it had a hard enough beat to really make you move. Jimmy happened to ask if I knew who the DJ was and as I shook my head I happened to look up in time to see someone I really didn’t want to see. The gentleman that had been in charge of observing my fruitless Go-Go dancing audition from the casino was hugging the DJ and heading back into the VIP area. I immediately freaked out and moved to a darker part of the room for a moment. What was it with the man; he seemed to be involved everywhere I went to dance as some sort of reminder that I’d never make something more of my passionate past time.
Getting beyond that, both boys gave me a pep talk and I definitely wanted out on the dance floor now, feeling something closer to spite than my normal joyful passion toward dancing. Tossing my jacket on the speaker stationed in a corner, I started dancing a little bit while I was still close to Jimmy and Steve. This was like shaking out all the limbs to make sure everything still works. If it looked stupid you’re still safe enough to walk away pretending that you weren’t really trying anyway. As confidence grew and the groups that had been hugging the wall started backing away from me, I moved more toward the middle of the room. There’s always this weird moment when I’m never sure if people are standing back to give me more room or if they’re moving to get away from me because I look so terrible.
It didn’t take very long for Jimmy to come join me with his drink in his hand. Both of us have this comical routine of stretching out and complaining about being too old for this shit. I always love dancing with him because he’s so out there. He takes up the whole floor and always makes me smile. He truly does understand what dancing means to me, and takes it as passionately as I do. He’s always been the first to drag me on to the floor when I’m still being shy. Jimmy gives me confidence when I’m slow to find it on my own.
We played around for a while on the dance floor, just having fun. A guy was dancing nearby with wild moves, so Jimmy started cheering him on. I just kept dancing but as I tried to mind my own business it became very apparent that the guy was trying to either dance with me or challenge me. Jimmy picked up on it too and started pushing at me to show him “what was what”. Moving in I didn’t really put up a fight, just started showing off a little more than I was. The whole thing was kind of fun as people started to move back and watch. The guy was pretty cool to watch, but out of no where his friends grabbed him and drug him off to the other room. It was an abrupt end to our little stand-off but it had been my first challege so I was happy to have at least made a showing.
About that time we both decided to take a break for both boys to get more drinks and Jimmy convinced us all to head into the Hip Hop Room for a bit. Grabbing my coat to follow them down the hall, I have the feeling right then that we would be dancing in separate rooms for the rest of the night. Moving slowly down the ramp that led from the door onto the dance floor, I stopped for a moment and looked around at the crowd that was starting to make this room their own. I really found nothing about it appealing. The fact that everything was white along with the lighting made it all glaring. The set up was intimate but the atmosphere was strangely pushy. The room also seemed really cramped as more people started piling in. As much as I love dancing to Hip Hop, I just wasn’t really feeling it. I set my coat on one of the couches and got out on the floor for a moment to make the best of what the boys wanted. I was doing my best to be social.
Not two seconds later Jeff showed up with the rest of the crew. Everyone was shaking hands and hugging all around, some how I got left to the outskirts. As much as I’ve liked Jeff every time I’ve met him, instead of feeling included I felt strangely left out. I also found it odd that I noticed how much of a minority I was in this group. Steve was the only other white person in the sea of Asians that made up the rest the entire group. Not that I minded. I seem to have this dating frequency with people of Asian decent, but that night I felt like a misfit standing amongst them. They all headed up the stairs to meet up with more people as well as get the drinks started.
Following the crowd, there was that change over that I hate when it happens. With the arrival of more people or a change in the situation, the people I’m with forget I’m there. There’s no more of the courtesy check to see if I’m still keeping up. Trudging up the stairs and feeling suddenly cranky because of the situation, I pulled what my manager calls a M.I.A. as soon as I got to the second floor. As the group squished into a smaller area in front of the bar, I filed in and then I filed around to keep right on walking through to the other side and back down the stairs to the dance floor in the House Room. I was almost proud of myself as I threw my coat back on the speaker where it had been. The M.I.A. had been one smooth motion and I had basically gotten cleanly away without anyone noticing.
The floor was still pretty wide open, but the wall huggers had expanded back out as well as more people were starting to take root. There is always this odd filtration of people that layer out into three different types. One type is the people that know what they want, stake them selves a spot and they are there for the night. Some will always bounce between rooms all night as if they fear they’ll miss something. They dance or just stand watching for a while and then disappear. At some point they will settle down to one room and end the night there. The rest are forever in the lobby with short sightseeing trips into the other rooms as if to see how the other half live. I just found myself an open section of floor that would accommodate my style and started dancing. I’ve always been the sort to stake my claim on an area and stick it out for the long haul. I’ve met so many people because of this. The conversations always go in the direction of the fact they had seen me dancing since the beginning of the night or they were glad to see someone as hardcore as they are. The music was awesome and that’s all the mattered. The boys were situated with they’re own crew and had the money to be buying rounds for each other. I wished them the best. I on the other hand was going to make this huge empty room my own little piece of House Music Heaven.
The music was still pretty laid back and I was having trouble losing myself. I took a lot of breaks to stand back and people watch as well as keep an eye on who was coming and going from the VIP party directly behind the DJ set up. One of the first people I noticed was a girl that had on a denim skirt and sandals. She was dancing in a manner that made her skirt ride up. Even though she seemed to be into the music, for some reason her presence was just bugging me. I couldn’t understand why someone would wear such impossible shoes to dance in as well as a skirt and then try to shake it like nothing was different. I kept trying to give her props for taking up a lot of floor space and dancing; yet I started to notice that she was keeping an eye on me as much as I was her. If I changed my style of dancing, so would she. If a guy came into the vicinity, she would automatically move right in. That’s when I knew what was bugging me. She danced to get noticed by the opposite sex, and she apparently was finding me a threat to that.
I did my best to stay out of this flamboyant man-hunter’s way. This plan of minding my own business apparently had flaws. After she danced me right out of an open pocket of space on the dance floor, I turned and moved to the sidelines of the crowd. Standing there for a moment, using the excuse as taking a break, a guy that I had seen handing out flyers earlier came over and handed me one. He was a short, older fellow that was wearing a black t-shirt with white lettering over a long sleeved white shirt. I remembered thinking that he must be either overheated or working outside to be handing out the flyers. The night had been warm, and the room itself was definitely not chilly.
I didn’t really look at the flyer since it was an ad for some film festival titled “Stiff”, but I wondered why I felt so singled out with the funky look he gave me. I shoved the bright orange flyer into my pocket and went back to dancing. The look was explained when the guy came back later while I was standing on the sidelines and started trying to dance with me. He had okay moves, and at that the moment I had thought he was just kidding. He had to be working the whole flyer deal so he must have been taking a break.
That turned out to be wrong as I ended up dancing with him for several moments more. He was an all right dancer, but seemed to be sweating in his long sleeved shirt. Turning away from me, I heard him mumble that he needed another drink in a slurred manner that made me laugh. The guy had definitely found a way to get through the torture of having to hand out flyers.
Back to the middle of the floor the flyer guy found me again. Dancing with him for several songs, I remember thinking how odd it was to be dancing with a guy that had “Stiff” advertised on his t-shirt in big bold letters. He told me that he was involved in a film that would be shown at the festival the next night. After making sure that I understood how much he wanted me to show up, I merely smiled and nodded. The next night I would be busy having a damn good time at the Mariners game with my crew from work. I was only going to nod and smile at this guy.
About the same time Mr. Stiff was driving me crazy by backing me in different directions on the floor, Jimmy wandered through to check on me. I gave him the look of needing help, which he never understands. He talked to the guy for a moment and I hoped that meant I was about to be saved. Jimmy always figures I need to meet more people, so he walked away with a pat on my shoulder.
I managed to lose the guy on the dance floor by retreating to get some water. The bartender seemed to be dealing with some interesting demands and though seem collected; there was an underlying sense of frustration. I tried to be as nice as possible and stood off to the side while I drank my water. It never ceases to amaze me how guys will try and pick you up at the bar while you’re trying to order a drink. When I get water they always give me this disgusted look and head toward the next available female. That’s right boy I’m still sober enough to know you’re a jerk!
I was actually tired by the time I took this break for water. Chewing the ice in the glass because the water had disappeared in one swallow, I was glad to look over the room and see that more people were hitting the floor and dancing. The energy was building from this crowd and that pleased me as well. Everything was shaping up as well as I could have hoped.
A shorter guy came my direction; built like he worked out a lot, his large t-shirt and fat silver chain attire make me wonder what the heck he was doing in the House Room. Stopping in front of me he didn’t wait for a situational opening in order to start talking to me for which I gave him immediate props. Yet as he launched into his whole little deal I was left in total shock. “You’re really awesome. I just wanted to tell you that you look really great out there dancing. You want an E-bomb?” The fact that this person just walked up to me, appealed my vanity so immediately and rather successfully, then tried to sell me Ecstasy just blew my mind. Here I was chalking this guy up as another testament to the fact that I looked just fine dancing that night, and all he really wanted to do was get my funds for a mind altering substance. Man I was slow and vain. When I refused without any pause for consideration he seemed a little surprised. “You’re not going to call the cops on me are you?” When I again said no he gave me this winning smile and walked away.
Jimmy did another swing through to see how I was doing. I let him know what had happened and he laughed. Besides that, when I had retreated to the middle of the floor to regain my composure I could swear I smelled marijuana. I was really starting to wonder what kind of place I was in. My lofty impressions of the club were starting to dwindle. This time he stuck with me to dance for a while and I was glad to have a friendly face. Even though I was being so Jr. High about it, I was seriously freaked out that some guy had just tried to sell me drugs. For all the places I’ve been since I started clubbing, and for how involved I consider myself to be in the House listening crowd (though I am not a Raver), it should have been more surprising that I hadn’t dealt with this sort of situation before then. I guess the high-class establishments that I’ve frequented didn’t leave me open to that sort of experience.
Jimmy and I danced for a bit but he had moved into full social swing and was talking to people and hitting on the girls that were around us. I moved toward the center of the floor to get more space and to leave Jimmy alone. I didn’t want to be responsible for messing with his mojo. Looking up to the DJ area again I saw a man I recognized as the old Entertainment Director of the club that my DJ friend had taken over. Where Benjamin was, my friend probably wasn’t too far behind. After watching Benjamin give the DJ a huge hug I looked to see who was leaning over the balcony to give a handshake. Indeed I was right. How odd that it was a Friday night and my friend was away from his post at his own club. Moving to dance in an area closer to the guarded stairs I kept an eye out in case I could catch my friend’s eye. I found it strangely ironic that I was seeing all these people I either knew or recognized on the first night I’d ever been to this club.
It wasn’t very long before the group descended from the party and I made my way to the bottom of the stairs in order to get my friend’s attention. Smiling he came toward me and gave me an unexpected hug. Those are moments I feel bad that I’m all sweaty from dancing, but he had always understood. His job revolved around getting people to dance till they got sweaty. We talked for a moment about the club, being his first time in the door as well. Several years ago when Janai and I had followed him from club to club, we had always done little debrief sessions on how the night had gone or more general discussions on the club itself. Both of us agreed that it was a beautiful place, but the velvet was an obvious hazard in a smoking establishment. After other small bits of chitchat he moved on with his group to check out the other rooms and I went back onto the floor feeling good about life. As much as I call the man my “DJ Friend” I appreciate it every time he even admits to knowing me in public. He and I have a very weird history.
The rest of the night was spent dancing. Keeping to the open spaces on the floor I really concentrated on closing my eyes and forgetting whatever else was going on in the room. All sorts of people were coming in and taking over the dance floor. Denim Girl was still annoying me, but at least she was keeping out of my way. She managed to hook up with this cutie that had wandered out of the VIP party. Yet once with a guy she seemed to back away and act unsure about the whole situation. I found that terribly ironic.
Jimmy had returned from the Hip Hop Room yet again to stand by me for another strange occurrence. The guy that had offered me the Ecstasy was good friends with a guy I had been admiring for his dance skills. The two of them were hanging together and then turned around to start talk to Jimmy. Ever my promoter, Jimmy did his usual spiel about how awesome I am and then laughed his ass off when the two of them went on a whole outburst about how they thought I was such an amazing dancer. I was really flattered, yet feeling odd about the situation, since they surrounded me to share this news. Several more times the dancing guy came back to ask for dancing lessons and other such nonsense, but he said something that really meant a lot to me. “You just look so into it and I think that’s awesome. The way you dance just really shows how deep you feel this. You are really feeling it!” It’s always great to be passionate about something. When you feel so much about something that it spills over obviously into the activity or that so blatantly colors the way you do something, to me that it is the best it can get.
Around one-thirty in the morning Jeff wandered in and found me but without Jimmy. Steve had come by earlier and we had chatted briefly about his upcoming birthday party. Someone that I’m slowly getting to know better, Steve has this great way of always making me feel included when everyone else has left me behind and treat me as an intelligent human being, not some meat product. Shrugging that I had no idea where the rest of the group went, Jeff and his friends that were following in his wake seemed very drunk. All Jeff would do in response to me was raise his glass and holler in my general direction.
The VIP party was emptying out and joining the dance floor, rather than watching from on high. It was adding a great energy to the room as well as packing it in with enthusiastic people that just wanted to dance. These people had been there to support the DJ in the first place and had already done their share of drinking. Now they were ready to dance and end the night on a high note. A random girl touched my arm to tell me that I was totally awesome and that her group had been watching me all night from the party upstairs. Another total boost to the ego. Not only was I noticeable, but I had also caught eyes from the VIP party, over the DJ’s head.
Having to work the next day I knew I’d best be heading out. Intending to leave closer to one-thirty, the watch was telling me that two o’clock was looming instead. Getting one last glass of water, I tipped the bartender with a five even though I had gotten my water for nothing all night. I am always huge about showing appreciation to the wait staff. I had seen some of the drunken assholes he had been dealing with and yet he had kept his cool. Even though I had drunk nothing but water all night, which can be a total pet peeve of bartenders, he treated me the same as everyone else. I looked around to find the boys in order to say good night. Nowhere in sight I headed toward the Hip Hop Room, dreading the scene I would find. Packed tight, I made my way though the crowd to do another loop from the floor, up to the bar and back into the House Room. I ran into Jeff who was looking for them as well and walked with him as we headed toward the lobby. There they all sat talking at the bar. Saying good night to the crew I headed out feeling very happy with myself.
Yet another night that was proof the world was a small place, I was glad that I had not chickened out on going. I felt good and tired, as well as justifiably sweaty. I had danced a lot that night, even with my late start. Those boys are awesome to hang out with, and I’m glad to have them in my life.