Cocktail Block Party

I have something to confess. The entire time that I’ve been bitching and moaning about the lack of club atmosphere in my life since the car accident is technically a lie. I say technically because I’ve come to recognize some major differences between the partying that I did manage to do while without a motorized vehicle and that I was doing on a regular basis prior to the destruction of my poor beloved car.
Going back to when I started this blog in the first place a very good friend of mine named Paul and I had gone to Last Supper Club to hang out and the cocktail waitress had been making people fill out entry forms to win free cocktail parties. A month or two after that I received a phone call from the club explaining that I had won and that I had to call back to set up a date. Some how or another I never did call them back.
Yet that wasn’t the end. I got an email several months later, like six months later, saying I had won again and that I just had to send a reply with the date I had in mind. This time I totally jumped on the idea of having a party. The funny thing was I just kept winning these cocktail parties, one right after the other so I sat back and thought, maybe I’ll just write one huge post comparing all these parties when my luck runs out.
Four parties and five months later my luck has finally run out. And as it would turn out the experiences are book ended in a nice neat sort of way. In the end my idea to do a big joint post was maybe the best. So here we go…

September 17th
This was my first time out for these cocktail parties. On paper the details made the whole affair seem like a freakin’ steal. No cover, all request DJ, wristbands for drink specials all night, food would be served, unlimited guest list, and reserve seating for the whole night. That’s totally awesome! With all of that to offer I wanted to get organized and sent out Evite’s to everyone I knew about a month in advance. I’d didn’t want to deal with the usual excuses of being busy or anything related to not having enough of a notice.
The response I got back was great, my guest list was looking to be somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty people. That’s damn good for me. Normally my parties, unless aided by someone else’s enthusiasm died out at four or five if I was lucky. This really seemed different and I couldn’t blame anyone willing to jump on this opportunity. Everyone I was talking to seemed really ready to go out and have a party with all these freebees.
The one kicker was that I had to check in for the party at or around seven in the evening. That’s damn early for anyone, especially since most (read: all) of my friends are people I work with. That meant everyone had to rush home and rush back. That was never going to happen, so I did my best to advertise for the latest that anyone could walk in the door and receive all the benefits of being a guest of mine. My hope was that I could just check in early and secure the privileges for the late comers for when ever they arrived.
I don’t know why I didn’t expect it, but as always the people that are the most eager to come out are the ones that change their minds at the last minute. At six forty-five in the evening I was walking in the door to the Last Supper Club not knowing what to expect or if ANYONE was going to show up. The last five hours had been filled with emails, texts, and phone calls of people briefly apologizing for not being able to make it to my party. The most I had was that my co-worker Aaron planned to hang out (read: baby-sit) at least for a little while intending to take off once more people showed up.
I felt so stupid being in the empty club so early in the evening. The girl in charge was flying around the room doing a million things last minute it seemed. After checking me in and telling me the details with the cocktail party I got a wristband and had the whole place to myself basically. Thank God Aaron showed up pretty much right behind me because I was starting to feel the same as that moment I had when I was waiting alone at the Irish Pub back in January as apart of an after party for my birthday that I tried to throw. Here I was sitting alone surrounded by tables reserved for twenty that sported balloons and place cards with my name on them, looking for the world like I had been completely abandoned.
Aaron and I at least could talk about stuff and get my mind off the fact that time was passing and no one was showing up. We totally jumped on the food when it was served. It was this cute little Mexican food buffet with these mini burritos that Aaron thought were the coolest. I was kind of disappointed because I had already eaten, and it wasn’t much of a spread. This was finger foods at best, when the email had made the buffet sound like a whole meal was being served. The meat was greasy as hell and the plates were so tiny that it was difficult to really eat without making several trips to the buffet or dumping into your lap.
Seated behind me was a couple decked out in the crimson and white WSU Cougar gear. I remembered that there was a football game at the stadium that was four of five blocks from there, and had to be the reason for the total lack of parking for blocks.
The guy looked very familiar as he went back to get more food, but I just couldn’t put my finger on who he was. I did think it was kind of weird that they were seated generally alone and taking part of the buffet that was suppose to be only for the cocktail party guests. Then again, everything so far had turned out to be more hype that real benefit.
Ironically as Aaron and I sat down to eat our well gathered feast Steve showed up, sans Jimmy which for some reason struck me as odd. It wasn’t that I unhappy to see Steve, I was just so use to the two of them carpooling and pre-funking together before going anywhere. I hadn’t seen Steve since the last time we had all hung out in June. I’d been in contact with him via text messages and I knew he read these posts every now and then, but other than that it was usually all Jimmy related interaction. Hell, the last time I had seen Jimmy had been in July when I had taken my under aged work crew out dancing.
When I had talked to Jimmy on the phone several days earlier he had said flat out promised me that he would be at my cocktail party. While the three of us sat around the table talking, I made Steve call Jimmy and ask when he was going to be there. The reply I got back was that he had been at the Puyallup Fair and had to shower and change before coming down.
With that figured out I was left to a table of awkward conversation. I could tell that Steve didn’t know what to make of Aaron and vice versa. That left me to glancing about the room nervously. When Steve’s nervous he starts talking himself up, which I’ve always thought to be a strange sort of response. He was telling Aaron all about the speed dating he had done and all the hot girls that he had dated in the last couple weeks. Guy talk is always somewhere in the middle of bragging and lying. I’ll never understand why guys have to be like that when they first meet each other.
My friend David walked in the door at a most fortuitous moment. The conversation with Aaron and Steve was getting a little deep even for me, and I was getting really upset that no one else was showing up. With a very cute girl on his arm I ran over to the bar to get David’s attention and make sure they got wristbands. But honestly they didn’t need my help getting drinks; I could tell that both of them had already been drinking at the football game. The couple that had been sitting behind me finally stood up and greeted me as well and in a flash I knew who the guy was. David’s roommate Jason, who I only knew briefly but had almost succeeded in making sure David and I never spoke again, thanks to a drunken fight he had gotten into with my friend Nicole several months ago at that very club. That’s one story I’m going to avoid retelling.
Even though I technically had more people at “my” party I was left with two split tables that I was not doing well floating between. The Cougar crew behind me seemed more intent on rehashing the football game and old college memories. I was still left to the clutches of the two guys that weren’t really talking. Steve got up to make a phone call and Aaron slid to sit beside me instead. I debriefed him on the little I knew about Steve and that seemed to clear things up about the strange interaction Aaron had been having while trying to make polite conversation.
Trying to change the subject to other things, I mentioned that Aaron would finally get to see the hottie bartender that I’m always taking about, just as Shannon walked in the door. Both of us stopped to watch him walk into the lobby talk to the girl that was starting to set up for the ID check and the collection of cover charge and then move into the club. He wore a leather jacket that reminded me of James Dean and Aaron immediately voiced the comparison. Walking past me he stopped to squeeze my hand and say hi before heading downstairs. My evening was starting to look up.
From here things just get kind of redundant. Steve kept going on and on about the hot girls he had dates with, Aaron baled out, and the Cougar crew behind me is getting rowdy drunk. When the DJ finally started spinning at ten o’clock David, Jason, and their two girls headed straight for the floor and I was totally surprised. These guys were usually dancing, but not until they had had PLENTY to drink. Then again I realized that the four of them had been drinking since the football game started and by now they all had to be totally wasted. The idea of being drunk enough to dance had just been accelerated by several hours. Yay, for college football!
I took that opportunity to escape my conversation with Steve and join the other half dancing, where I stayed for the rest of the night. Between trips to the bar because the cocktail waitress that was suppose to be “taking care of me” had never bothered to look at me once since she went on shift, I was trying to stay dancing as much as possible. Everyone else that I had been texting the whole night wasn’t going to show up, even though I had made the big deal of writing out several people’s names on the guest list. I could tell that the coordinator was less than pleased with my turn-out and really hadn’t wanted me to make out a guest list after nine o’clock. I had to make the best of my own situation and have some fun.
When David and his crew baled out at about eleven-thirty none of them could really walk and they had confused Steve as someone that I was dating. Each one had to stop and tell him to take good care of me or they’d beat him up. I could only be embarrassed and roll my eyes. Back to the floor I escaped and did my best to just forget what a terrible flop this night had been.
When Gene Lee jumped up behind the turn tables as the headliner DJ I was ecstatic. I hadn’t seen him spin since I had been a regular at Liquifi located in the EMP’s lounge. Awesome Progressive House was always in store whenever he was spinning which was a great break from the Funky House that everyone seems to spin now a day. Nothing was going to take me off the floor.
Across the room I saw a pretty hot looking guy that was a great dancer. I started thinking back to a time when I prided myself on being able to at least get one dance out of anyone on the floor that caught my eye. The party had been a total flop, so at that rate I really felt like I didn’t have anything to loose. Working my way across the floor, I did make contact with the guy. He was the sort that danced exclusively by himself and may have even been gay but he did me the honor of making eye contact and dancing in the same general space as I did for a little while. That was enough for me, he had great moves and I enjoy the challenge of changing up my usual style to learn a new move or to merely keep up with someone else in compliment.
Steve took off not to long after midnight. Jimmy who had never shown up, I left several very drunk and upset messages on his voice mail, whining that he had promised me that he would show. Other than that, it was close to one in the morning when I grabbed up my coat and the balloons that had been tied to the tables reserved under my name and headed out the door. Christina who was a singer in the reggae band I had just gotten involved in called me out of the blue and said she was just down the block at The Catwalk and she was headed my way to hang out.
I was done at that point. I was headed for my car and my bed. I told her that I had left her name on the guest list so she at least would get free cover; I on the other hand had to work in the morning and was done with the whole affair.
Driving home I just felt really let down. It had been a while since I had tried to throw a party. This one had flopped terribly. All I had to show for it was a back seat full of balloons.

November 5th
I had picked this date specifically with the intention of making this party more successful than the one before it. My boss Christian’s birthday was coming up and I figured that if I said this was a party for him, then TONS of people would show up. My boss tended to be the life of any party or get-together, when he was excited about something he was great about convincing a lot of other people to show up as well. This party was no exception.
I had done the same drill as before and sent out Evites as soon as I had all the details together, making sure to include specific people that Christian wanted. Ultimately that just meant more people that we work with. Yet this time I had a really good feeling that, for Christian, they would show up. In a way that made me sad that I didn’t have the touch anymore to get people to get off their butts and eager for a night out. But this party wasn’t about me. It was about me throwing a party for Christian.
Thinking back to the year before when I had attended a gathering thrown specifically for Christian’s birthday, I was a little ashamed. I was so drunk I couldn’t walk or talk or do much of anything. Poor Christian, along with Jeff the manager for our department, spent the wee hours of the morning walking my drunk-ass around trying to sober me up enough so I could get home without endangering the human race. I made sure I requested the day after the party off from work I didn’t want a repeat of such behaviors and then have to try and function with the general public next morning. It was also the one month anniversary of my car accident at that point so I wasn’t driving any where either. I had the best situation possible for a good night of drinking. No car, no work, no worries!
Although it did start out like the September cocktail party had with cancellations from people that left me feeling rather sad. I had been trying to get a hold of Jimmy for weeks and the number was suddenly disconnected. The day of the party I gave in and called Steve pretending to check on whether he was going to show up. I received news that was pretty upsetting. Jimmy was in a relationship with a girl that had forced him to change his cell number and he wasn’t giving it out. When I asked Steve for the new phone number he refused saying it wasn’t his decision, if Jimmy had wanted me to have it he would have called me by now. I begged him to make sure that Jimmy knew that I was trying to get a hold of him yet I knew deep in my soul that Steve would never say a word. Especially when he started asking me if I was single and all this crap that told me that he was just trying to use the whole situation as an angle. When I kept changing the subject around his advances he told me he wasn’t going to my party and that was the last I pretty much heard from either Steve or Jimmy.
It hurt me really deeply that Jimmy could just “never speak to me again”. How can you just shut out someone you know, and knew for quite some time, like a snap of your fingers? It hurt too that I had no options to contact him in order to bridge the gap. I was going to miss him a lot. It was a blow that really stayed with me for the rest of the night. I kept thinking back to all the adventures we had had, especially at the Last Supper Club.
With that whole thing bringing me down, the weather wasn’t any more inspiring. The torrential down pour made me worry that no one would show. Seven-thirty found me floating around an empty club with butterflies in my stomach predicting disaster. But then again that turned out to be a good thing since the girl in charge didn’t have her act together. I had told her it was a birthday party and she had placed a bunch of Parrot Bay Rum swag that was meant for a girl. Mentioning that I had told her earlier that it was a guy who I was throwing the party for she had to run around and change out the gifts. In the process she let me know the club had run out of helium so there would be no balloons, and she had lost her keys to get downstairs so it would be a while before she could get back to me. I was starting to wonder how much of an airhead she was as she continued to talk to her self.
The two managers in the store, Jeff and Tiki were the first to show up. I was surprised to see them show up so early. Jeff and I had become quick friends from the start of me being hired. I ride whenever possible with him when he digs out the motorcycle and he and I are very close friends, I feel. Tiki was still new to me even though she had been the working in the newly created position for over a year. She was very much a tom-boy and a rowdy drunk that fit in well with the dynamic of the rest of us, yet I was slow to warm to her.
I was just putting a mental tally of Corona’s on the table as the rest of them flowed in to the little corner area we had reserved. I was thankful for the different set up with this particular group. Unlike the booth seating from last time, the area was across the room had long tables and couch seating. As more and more of my personal friends and co-workers rolled into to celebrate Christian’s birthday it was so much easier to converse with everyone and kept things from breaking up into cliques.
We all had a good laugh as Christian went through the swag that the club had left as a birthday present. There was a t-shirt advertising Parrot Bay Rum, a Stoli lazar pointer that projected the Stoli logo where ever it was pointed, and Marti Graz beads to spice up the party. Something told me that the lazar pointer would only get someone into trouble later that night.
The food this night was pasta and boy was that good! Penne pasta is something that I could live on for years of I had the chance. The alfredo sauce had big chucks of chicken and was just really good. I was still really antsy about making sure that everyone was having a good time so it was tough for me to eat. When ever I throw a party like that I never eat. I can never sit still long enough. That probably adds to my problem of getting drunker that expected. This was turning into the same situation. I was downing Smirnoff Ice after Smirnoff Ice while I waited for Shannon to take up shop behind the bar. I was also buying round after round of drinks for my co-workers in the hopes of paying a lot of them back for all the times they paid for a drink or two for me when I was short on cash.
It was still pretty early when I noticed that I seemed to have ended up in a weird sort of competitive interaction with Tiki who, by random chance, had ended up sitting next to me. I really felt like she was vying for the same attention from the same people that I was talking to. I’ll never understand why feminine competition seems to follow me; then again maybe it’s all in my head. That would be terribly ironic. But the more we both had to drink the less I cared. I knew I was looking good in the brand new white lace overlay corset top I was wearing with my hair straight. All my attentions were focused on having a good time that night with all the friends that had shown up.
The club was still pretty empty when Shannon walked in and took up a rather bored stance behind the bar. I immediately ran over to order a Black Opal from him. Where normally he takes a moment to squeeze my hand and talk to me, he just seemed annoyed by my mere presence. I kept trying to make my normal jokes and he would only give me a less than pleased look in response. Heading back to my seat I felt a little rejected and drank deeply in silence for a moment. Tiki immediately started quizzing me on what I was drinking and the fact that she’d never had one. I mentioned that I should get us both a Washington Apple shot and she seemed more than eager. Back to the bar I ran to order up the drinks and as I waited Shannon turned from the back counter to throw a pen cap at me. We joked back and forth for a moment about terrible customer service and he made up the drinks, acting for all the world like the Shannon I was use to.
Bringing back the shots Tiki admitted that she was incapable of taking a shot in one swallow. I had to laugh at her then, for all her tom-boy qualities that I envied (mostly her ability to enjoy a beer) I downed shots like kool-aid while she took her precious time sipping off it like a baby bottle. What I had forgotten was my aversion to Crown Royal that still stuck with me since a year ago when Renzo and I had proceeded to party it up and I blew out any drinking record I ever want to have. Eleven shots of Washington Apple left me with only the ability to puke and pass out. Not so very smart at all. This time my mouth just watered a little but the drink wasn’t physically rejected. I was sort of pleased. I hated to think I could never enjoy another shot of the stuff.
I was passing Tiki right by with my shots as I kept returning to the bar to order something different every time. I was suddenly enjoying the fact that I had drinks I loved the taste of and I could knock them back like a professional. A professional what… I donno. Professional alcoholic was probably all.
When it hit me that I had to use the bathroom I really wasn’t surprised. I had been drinking a lot since my arrival and had yet to feel the need to “break the seal”. Thankfully it was still early in the evening so there wasn’t anyone in the ladies room. I had one of those moments when you realize that drunken-ness was setting on quickly from the way the room swayed as I tried to use the restroom. Yet I took care of my needs without a problem. The strange part came when I flushed the toilet and was about to walk out of the stall, I realized with shocking speed that I was going to throw up.
Even that was odd. At this point I had thrown up three times due to way too much consumption of alcohol and every single time I’ve been scared to death for my physical well being. This time it was so matter of fact and business like. I merely held my hair back, leaned over, threw up, flushed and headed to the sink to check my make-up. Seeing nothing out of place I headed right back to the party, drinking off an abandoned Smirnoff Ice that I had left to the way side when I had started my shot spree. I also took note of the fact that I had passed up the Toasty stage and had gone straight for Fuzzy. Throwing up merely told me I needed to slow down. In hindsight it seems terribly stupid to try and wash down the taste of my having thrown up with another alcoholic drink but I can’t really say I was firing on all cylinders at that point. It also seems to be such a terrible waste of money. I had probably flushed something in the neighborhood of ten dollars, if not more, down the down the toilet just because I had been over eager. I only think of that now because at present I’m not exactly rolling in the dough I ended up spending on my tab for this whole night.
Luke, a co-worker from another department came rolling in totally soaked to the bone. I felt so honored that Mister Unable-to-commit-or-show-up had come all the way in the rain to hang out in a club I knew he wasn’t fond of. I went to the bar with Luke to make sure he got his wristband and that I bought his first drink. We both tried to hint to the female bartender that we wanted a rag or something since Luke was dripping all over everything. She just smiled at us, gave Luke his beer and walked away. This left me running to the Ladies room to grab paper towels.
After that the night was pretty much just me continuing to drink and bounce around from group to group, which is never my style. Sober I’m more the sort to find a buddy and stick with them all night or abandon everyone for the dance floor. This time I was surrounded by close friends, hell even people I had known since high school. Jon showed up with a girl who was a co-worker of his. I was so pleased to have him at one of my parties. We really hadn’t spent a lot of time together since the ending of our relationship and the reinstitution of our friendship. I’m always reminded how important it is for me to have people in my life that knew me back when I was younger.
Jon had brought his digital camera and started taking pictures. This immediately had me jumping into poses with various people like a real social butterfly. I also nabbed it and started chasing Christian around in the hopes of getting a few good shots of the birthday boy. All I succeeded in was making an ass out of myself and wasting space on the camera.
The DJ kicked in about this time and I still wasn’t in the mood to dance. Luke and Christian had removed from the group to sit on a bench behind us all and smoke. When the new VIP room was being opened and prepared the two just couldn’t help themselves. With the door only a foot away from where they were sitting the two of them wandered in to have a look around. In and out they went several times without anyone questioning them. They brought back tales of beds and private bartenders from the other room. Sounded like an orgy to me.
I’m not sure what started it, but I think I remember someone making a comment about my lack of presence on the dance floor. Jon had also mentioned that both he and his friend Carolani were looking to pick up chicks. He had made a joke about me being his wingman which immediately inspired me to jump up and dance my way around the people that were hebetating the floor to see if there was anything promising for Jon. Some how that had led to a series of dares being shot around the group of who had the balls to join me on the dance floor. It was the one person no one expected that jumped up first. Jonny is a Lead in the store and although a close friend of Aaron’s, he was still the quiet guy. Out on the floor he came and shocked the hell out of me because I wasn’t quiet sure what had spawned it; then I looked over to see the rest of the group throwing fingers at each other and I knew what had to be happening. Christian was stirring the shit, which he was always good at.
Ben’s girlfriend Kelly was next along with Ben who I had taken dancing for his very first time at this very club, they were making a lovely pair together on the floor. Next came Luke who definitely surprised me. The boy had some skill and seemed to be enjoying himself until he stole my hat and stuck it on his own head. It was like a gun shot had gone off in the club; a bouncer was on him immediately to take the hat off. We both stopped dancing as I took my hat back and we both seemed to be in shock about how freaked out the whole situation had made the bouncer. Luke walked away at that point and I followed him.
Christian was working on Jeff who I sincerely doubted would budge an inch yet it had only taken one word from me to get him to let go of the wall he was hugging and follow me out there. I could tell he wasn’t use to the music that was playing yet it didn’t take but a moment for him to really feel the beat. It was so great to see him let go of the age thing I knew had to be bothering him and just be free.
Christian had no way out when all of his pushing and shoving came back around on him. Especially when Jeff came back in from dancing with me, I think Christian had been banking on the fact that Jeff would never give in. Just the two of us on the floor, I was reminded again what a great dancer he was. We had gone dancing several times and he was always a mystery to me. A guy that would rather sit in a bar and drink with friends, he was still a great dancer. He listened to more hip hop in a public stand point, but I knew he loved House music as well. Before he walked back to his beer I got a string of his Mardi Graz beads as a prize. I felt like a damn accomplished party thrower.
I was sitting back with Luke and Christian having a smoke when, as a joke I had slapped my hat on Luke again. The same bouncer appeared like a flash to start giving Luke more shit about it. This time Luke was fighting back. It did seem like a ridiculous rule that girls could do just about anything while guys had a strict set of guidelines they had to follow. The two were shouting at each other by the end of the confrontation and I knew Luke was pissed off by the obvious bias. I was feeling terrible since I was the one that had added to the problem again. But like everything else at this point in my intoxication, it didn’t bother me for long.
It was well after midnight when people started leaving. I damn near fell and lit Aaron on fire when I stood to hug him goodbye with a cigarette in my hand. The same could be said for everyone it seemed. No matter where I was, sitting down, on the dance floor, standing up. I practically toppled over when someone went to hug me goodbye. I was pretty oblivious that they were all leaving until I looked over to where my friends had been sitting and I recognized no one. Jon and Carolani had gone downstairs and everyone else had gone home. I was completely alone and people had moved right into my area and my stuff was getting moved or stolen.
Digging for my coat was almost comical. I’m sure the people that had plopped down on the couches were pissed that I was going through their belongings right in front of them. Finding my coat and checking to make sure my wallet was still inside, I stashed the whole deal at the empty end of the couch and went to tab out. I really wasn’t surprised when I saw the ninety-two dollar tab. I felt just the opposite of that, I was damn proud. I’d had a great night hanging out and drinking with my friends and I had done well at keeping them from being thirsty.
My belongings re-stashed and tabbed out both to cut myself off as well as to not leave the club without my credit card that night; now, I had time to kill before a friend of mine showed up to drive me home. Designated Drivers are so under rated. These people have it worse than bartenders I think. Most of the time they are close friends and they either spent the night holding back and watching everyone else get happily drunk, or they have to take special time out of their day to deal with a drunken person who is at the very worst of any drinking situation by the time they have to drive them home. Right before you leave is when you are throwing up or just hitting the belligerent or even black-out stage of intoxication. No sober person wants to deal with that shit.
I was fully aware of how drunk I was, but I was also beyond caring. All I remember thinking was that I’d better keep having as much fun as possible until I HAD to go home. This great logical train of thought got me up onto the platform speakers trying to Go-Go when really I couldn’t even hold my balance to walk. In one moment I went from the normal drunk happy me, to the type of girl I cannot stand. The one that is so drunk she can’t dance so she just flails about thinking she’s the sexiest thing alive, only to pitch and weave or actually fall into the crowd. My stupid drunk ass did actually pitch right face first onto the crowd in front of me. It wasn’t like a stumble where I lost my balance for a moment and I had to recover, it was more like everything from the knees up was compelled to just fall forward and I had nothing more than my “Sober Spectator” telling me that I was going to miss my front teeth when I smashed my face on the dance floor.
I don’t remember knowing that there were people dancing below me but some how I threw out a hand and stopped myself on this guy’s shoulder. Talk about a look of death from this poor guy that I posted off of. In a moment I could see how utterly ridiculous I looked in his eyes and apologized profusely while I did my best to get off the platform without further incident. In a way it was a damn good thing that I was totally intoxicated, other wise I would have died of embarrassment.
Sticking to the floor I moved around totally oblivious of anything going on around me other than the music. I remember noticing suddenly that I had acquired another set of Marti Graz beads from someone else, and some guy was dancing behind me with his arms wrapped all the way around my waist. I kept trying to move away but he was glued to me. For a while I didn’t really care since he was behind me and I didn’t have to really look at him. Yet in the end he tried to keep moving in on me and I became angry. When I’m drunk, my patience is nil. When something is stopping me from doing anything that I want to do, I get angry in a flash. When it came time for me to go home I basically just threw his arms off of me and walked away without looking back. I was so angry that he was slowing me down that it was only the “Sober Spectator” that kept me from turning around to vindictively shove the guy before I walked away.
Weaving my way out of the club and bouncing off the door that seems to confuse me whether I’m sober or not, I continued to be upset the guy had ruined my last moments dancing for the night. Then again that particular emotion lasted for only a second, I was back to my giggly drunken self as I retold the story for the night to my poor but wonderful sober friend, in a voice that wouldn’t put me past the age of eight years old.
The next morning I experienced the worst hangover I’ve ever had in my entire life. My skull felt like the glass shell of a snow globe. When ever I tried to move my head, my brain turned to snow and swirled around painfully in my head. At more than a couple years past twenty-one, I’m damn glad that it has taken me as long for me to feel this kind of pain and under the circumstances of having the whole day to recover. All my clubbing years had been spent mostly sober or at least with me drinking one for one with alcohol and water. Water is the only thing that quenches a thirst brought on by dancing for hours straight. Now I had to pay for both my lack of water consumption from the night before and the fact that I am getting older. My Aunt assures me that it just gets worse the older you get. It definitely felt like it that day.

December 10th
The Christmas season was approaching and work was about to be crazy for me and all my friends. Christian’s party had gone so well, in my blurry but positive estimation, that I was doubly excited to do it again for my own birthday.
By now the situation was familiar. Great turn out on replies to the Evites I was sending out and nothing of the sort showing up when it actually came down to the party itself. This was the first year that my good friend and kindred clubbing spirit, Nicole was in town. I was really excited about that because I knew for once I would have a girl there that would be out dancing with me. In fact she beat me to the club itself. I was the one who was calling to apologize for being late. That was a damn nice change. The idea that I wouldn’t be facing the empty club was really appealing. I was also back to being the owner of a vehicle and was still at that stage of driving like a grandma. It had been two months since I had been behind the wheel of anything motorized.
Walking in the door of the club it was actually pretty active. It wasn’t jam packed but there was more than one cocktail party in session. I headed to the bar to check in and get my wrist band, but Nicole got my attention from where she was sitting up in what I like to call the DJ Crow’s Nest. The seating for the party in November was on the main floor, but this time we were on the next level up in a cozy little section fenced in with an iron railing and over looking the DJ set-up directly. I couldn’t have been more pleased. With each party the seating got better and better! I would be able to defend my reserved seating much more easily and with the couch seating and little side tables, it was like having your own living room right in the middle of the action.
It had been a while since Nicole and I had seen each other but the conversation didn’t seem to come easily. I opened the hand made present she gave me covered in a Wonder Woman comic. The pearl choker was beautiful and I looked forward to actually wearing it. After that Nicole dragged me down to the bar to get some drinks. She couldn’t stay as long as I had hopped, which was really disappointing. Dancing was a solo act again.
I was reluctant to order a shot without Shannon behind the bar, but Nicole was determined that she was going to buy me something for my birthday. The woman that was behind the bar as always seemed to come off rude to me. Her attitude was like she hated the fact that she had to be serving cocktail parties or so damn early in the night; one or the other. I was a little worried about my response to a Washington Apple as my first drink of the night. I sincerely doubted that I’d get it down without embarrassing myself. I ordered a Smirnoff Ice in the hopes of either prepping for the shot or chasing, I just couldn’t decide.
When Nicole didn’t move away from the bar to take our drinks back upstairs I realized she expected me to just shoot it all right there. I actually started to whine that it was a little too early in the night for me to try and take this kind of shot, but then I felt immediately stupid. Taking several chugs of my Bitch Beer, I decided that was good enough buffer for me to take the Washington Apple shot. I was wrong. It got half way down and stopped, therefore I had to stop and almost choked on it. Some of it dribbled down my chin in the process and I hurried to finish the rest of it off feeling like a terrible idiot. My miraculous recovery from my aversion to Crown Royal was not a complete and this was proof. Nicole was laughing at me as we walked back up to our seats, and I was still wiping at my face which felt eternally sticky now.
Nicole and I were still talking when the rest of the crew arrived pretty much all at the same time. Christian had brought a guy from our crew named Casey who was newly turned twenty-one. I was really pleased that he would want to come out to a club and hang with me. It was pretty hilarious that the first thing Casey did was, sit down and spill his beer. Jeff sat next to me and Tiki found a spot next to Christian. Norah, who had been in charge of all of the other parties and has only left me with an impression of being scatter brained at best came up to my little party to help out with checking ID’s and putting on wristbands. This was the third time she had talked with me and I was sort of displeased that she hadn’t recognized me at this point. This time around, she seemed to remember me and it didn’t bring a smile to her face. It was at that moment I had the distinct feeling I was about to be blocked from the cocktail party list.
Several other co-workers that I hadn’t expected to show were there as well. It was a pretty good turn out except for the fact that it was all people I worked with other than Nicole. For some reason that was how the conversation split. Nicole and I remained seated next to each other talking and catching up, while the rest them bitched about work. I was trying so hard to listen in every now and then to keep up with the conversation just in case I wanted to join in. It wasn’t really working. I was just dividing my attention from Nicole more than I was keeping involved in the other people talking. Longer than I would have liked, the party stayed divided without me really talking to any one other than Nicole.
The beer run made me feel bad. I didn’t have the available funds this time, to lavish my guests with rounds of drinks, and the choices of what the club counted as their beer special for the night had changed. Corona was no longer on that list, but I still bought a round to have waiting for everyone when they got there. I at least warned the boys as they disappeared downstairs that draft beers where the cheep choices.
Shortly after every one was settled with their second round, Nicole had to leave. It was sad to see her go so dang early. I really wished she could have stayed. Jeff was pretty much the only one making a big deal about the fact that it was my birthday and drinks should be bought for me. A couple Smirnoff Ices later and I was waiting like a vulture for Shannon to get behind the bar. I wanted a Black Opal that only he could make.
When he did walk in the door, Tiki and I seemed to have noticed him at the same time. I immediately went downstairs to order my drink and mentioned that I was here celebrating my birthday. Immediately he walked around the long side of the bar and came to give me a big hug. Going back to make the drink he make the sign for “no charge” and wished me a happy birthday. I couldn’t have been happier.
Like last time, I ended up dragging Tiki downstairs with me to ogle at Shannon and to introduce her to a new shot: a Porno Star. This was a shot that came out of my getting to know both Shannon and dating Mondavi back in the day at Taboo Nightclub, down south. I had started hanging around the bar so much in order to talk with Mondavi that I was getting bored with the drinks I knew. One night Shannon said he’d surprise me and out of that came the Porno Star shot. It was a creamy blue and tasted like bubblegum. Since then Shannon is the only one that I’m brave enough to order that from. I’ve never known if it was a real shot or just something that Shannon came up with. I brought that up when he handed over the two shots and we both had a good laugh about it. It was funny that as I stood there laughing with Shannon, Tiki just kind of stood there looking like she felt awkward. I’d never seen her have an awkward moment in her life, she was the sort to be loud and blow right through something that would have made someone else feel embarrassed. Hustling her back upstairs she sipped on her shot and told me that I had found another winner. I felt good that I at least was showing her good drinks.
This wasn’t a party for me to sit and talk with people. I felt like an outsider for most of the night, like the time that I had missed while talking with Nicole had left me out of the loop. The music started but I didn’t immediately run to the floor. I was still sitting on the couch watching everyone else around me. Tiki and Christian had ended up sitting together and after several drinks were involved in a very touchy feely tickle war. At first it was funny but after a while the rest of us kind of wanted to ask the two of them to just get a room. At one point I jumped in the middle to tickle Christian myself just so I could be involved for a second. It only lasted a moment before I was thrown off the pile and wandered downstairs to dance. I didn’t want to watch the two of them anymore.
I was moving back and forth to the dance floor on a selected song basis. For some reason when a remixed version of No Doubt’s “Hella Good” was played I immediately when to Jeff who was no sitting outside of the group looking less than involved. He knew the song and approved of my choice. He was so much quicker to get on the floor and cut loose with me. That really made my night honestly. After that Jeff pretty much sat alone watching Christian and Tiki messing with each other and pulled his famous M.I.A. move. I wasn’t offended when I saw that he had disappeared without saying goodbye. I could understand completely.
I ended my drinking spree pretty quickly. I was a little past Toasty when I switched over to water. But I had been bound and determined to drive myself home that night and make it into work bright and early the next morning. When I ran into my friend David, while on the way to the bar, I was a little peeved to see him show up so late and that he never called me to tell me he was coming at all. With a completely different girl on his arm and both of them looking far from sober he had the gall to ask me to either get him a wristband for cheep drinks or buy him drinks. I knew they had changed the rules and after nine, there were no more wristbands. Even so, I spent several embarrassing moments trying to pantomime the situation to a bartender who really didn’t care. In the end I decided to be selfish and told them they were on their own. I bought one drink for him and walked off. It was suppose to be my birthday party, damn it! He was supposed to be buying me drinks!
I was on my second bottle of water and sitting far away from the crew when I realized that the party up here was really happening without me. The majority of the people that had attended couldn’t be coerced out on the dance floor and had just stayed in their tight nit little group all night. I had no idea what anyone was talking about or what the jokes were referring to. I felt damn lonely in that moment. It was supposed to be my birthday party and no one was dancing, no one was even talking to me. Of course Christian’s birthday worked out the best possible, and mine was sad in comparison.
I must have looked upset. Christian managed to tear himself away from Tiki in order to do another beer run and asked how I was doing. I tried to smile but I was feeling rather down. For some reason that inspired him to start a birthday lap dance. What more could a girl ask for? A hot Latino was giving me a hell of a lap dance for my birthday and all for free. I just sat back and laughed my ass off. People from the party across the way were stopping on the stairs to watch and Christian got all self conscious. That made me pissed that he just quit and walked down the stairs to get more drinks, but my mood was definitely repaired.
The crew that was holding down the Crow’s Nest stuck it out until one thirty in the morning. I figured that had to have been a new party record. Then again they were all drinking A LOT. After my lap dance I pretty much remained on the floor trying to find my happy place there. When the rest of them left I was on my fourth bottle of water and feeling a little drunk but just enough to be pleasantly bubbly. On my way out I was surprised at how fast people move into a spot that was still warm from another person’s butt. Grabbing my coat and my balloons I headed out the door some what disappointed at how the evening had gone as a whole.
Don’t get me wrong. I was grateful and thankful for every friend that was willing to come out and hang at a club which I know is really just my deal and no one else’s. I just didn’t feel like it was a party. We were all in the same place at the same time. But every attempt I made to try and re-involve myself in conversations or anything else, it didn’t really happen. I was on the outside looking in only to give up, disappearing on the dance floor in defeat. On the bright side, I made it to work the next morning, none the worse for wear. I was damn tired but I had balanced my alcohol with my water intake perfectly.

January 28th
From that last meeting with Norah in December I really knew that the email that I hadn’t replied to yet, for a cocktail party after the New Year would be the last one. I never really managed to have a blow out party with the sort of attendance that I’m sure that the club had envisioned when they came up with the whole “free cocktail party” idea in the first place.
This party was the exact bookend to the first cocktail party I threw back in September. Where as the Evites were pretty sad and filled with more maybe’s than yes’s some how I knew that no one was going to show up in the end. That feeling was well cultivated through out the day of work prior to the party. It was a day of abuse for me. I was down and customers as well as co-workers were still kicking.
By the time I left work I wanted NOTHING to do with any other human being. I was seriously close to canceling (read: No Show). The very last thing I wanted was to sit in that club alone and drinking with the mood I was in. I was smart enough to know that trouble would only ensue from that list. When you drink copious amounts of alcohol while in a bad mood, it only seems to amplify that mood instead of reversing to the usual happy drunk that I would rather be. It’s really not worth it emotionally or monetarily.
I ended up screaming along to the Nickelback CD that I got for Christmas and by the time I got to a friend’s house to change my clothes for the party, I was feeling a whole lot better. It was like I had exorcized a demon or something. I felt lighter but still sort of drained. A residue of less than cheerfulness was lingering, but at least I was looking forward to going out that night instead of hating all man-kind.
Parking and walking into the empty club I was sort of regretting that I had dressed so casually. Then again it was DAMN cold outside and I wasn’t in the mood to put in all the time and effort to primp. Marching to the bar like a zombie I stood for several minutes while the solo female bartender straight up ignored me in order to finish the story she was telling to another co-worker. The bad mood was starting to return. After she decided to acknowledge my presence, I got the joy of being treated incredibly rude. I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs that I had just spent the last nine hours working with the public and now that I was on the opposite side of the counter, I wasn’t about to put up with any shit! But I just wandered away silently trying to focus my attention on finding where my reserved seating was.
Three round tables on the main floor had the RSVP cards with my name on them. The club had changed out the long couches I had loved so much in November and replaced everything with the simple chairs and little round tables that Lifeguard and I had sat at when we had talked earlier that week. In fact my reserved area was only one table away from where we had been chatting just two days ago. Taking a moment to steel myself against feeling anxious I looked around me thinking that was all terribly ironic.
I had a lot of time to sit around and think about anything, ironic or otherwise. It was a long forty-five minutes before Aaron walked through the door. I was happy to see him, since my mood was sinking and my mental capacity for fun was dropping rapidly. Then again he came as the bearer of bad news. No one else from work was coming. They had all sent messages with Aaron for me. I felt sort be betrayed that no one had said a word to me the whole day; then again I had been too busy being run ragged by customers.
Aaron and I sat in silence for a long time, just drinking and trying to think of conversation topics. We’d just spent the whole day at work together talking; which meant we were pretty much out of shit to say to each other by this point. After another drink I was starting to feel more anxious having Aaron there rather than being alone and wallowing in my own pity.
When Renzo waltzed in the door my whole attitude changed and even though I was watching myself be strange in my head, I couldn’t seem to do anything about it. I hate it when I do this. It’s like I have to impress certain people. My attitude has to be upbeat and I have to appear bubbly and outgoing no matter what. The more I was putting on this show for Renzo the more pissed off I know Aaron was getting. He had just sat for a good twenty minutes dealing with my sulky attitude only to have some guy that he barely knew walk in the door and get all the smiles and laughter.
The conversation was awkward as the three of us sat trying to talk. Renzo had totally forgotten he had met Aaron more than once before, and was being his usual carefree (often seen as careless) self. I knew that was getting on Aaron’s nerves and I was too busy trying to act like there wasn’t a problem in the world. I was relieved when Rachel, who was a co-worker and her boyfriend, Jay, showed up and completed the strange party.
One more beer and Aaron split. Renzo was riding his motorcycle that night so I was paranoid-ly watching all his gear which he had carelessly stacked off to the side of the tables. This also meant that he wasn’t drinking more than one beer. When my cell phone rang, part of me was hoping that it was more guests that were planning on showing up. I needed all the support I could get as Renzo decided to start sharing embarrassing drinking stories from our past. Instead it was Lifeguard who I had told to call me since I was going to be at Last Supper. He still hadn’t gotten his credit card back from the bartender who had just giving it away to the wrong person Thursday night. She had told Lifeguard that she knew the exact person she had given it to and would get the card back from the guy, no problem. My hope was to try and help figure out where she was in that process. I had also emailed him a blazing message about how terrible my day was and how I really hated that I had to sit through a cocktail party that I knew would flop. He gave me a nice little pep talk before he had to go to work that night and I promised to ask about his credit card.
The minute I saw the bartender in question start to work, I headed to the bar to talk to her. She seemed horribly guilty about the whole thing and said that the card was going to be in her hands before next Thursday; she would hand it over to Lifeguard then. This in turn left her open to ridicule from her co-workers as those standing next to her wanted to know what we had been talking about. I felt sort of vindicated at that moment. She certainly wasn’t going to lazy about that again.
Returning with another Black Opal from Shannon, Rachel asked what I was drinking. Both Rachel and Jay decided to stray from the usual Long Islands to give something new a whirl. I was really happy when both continued to drink them for the rest of the night. The down side of all that was I never did manage to escape the embarrassing stories that Renzo had been waiting to share. Apparently the discussion on my drink inspired him to resume. Normally I love telling these stories because I find them hilarious, but they aren’t stories that my employees need to hear. Especially not to an employee in particular that has the grand ability to get news to fly through our workplace in record time. But there was really nothing I could do other than try to lead the story along and keep details from getting too outrageous.
Talking with Jay I learned that he was a huge House music fan and I was overjoyed to learn that. He was excited for the DJ’s to start spinning music that night and mentioned he too was a loyal listener of c89.5. I took the opportunity to change tracks from the stories that Renzo seemed to have a million of, and relayed my tale of helping DJ Lifeguard plot out his mix for the House Arrest set he did.
Renzo ended up strapping all his riding gear back on and heading out for a while to another party that he had promised to attend. Some part of my consciousness was relived that I didn’t have to watching after his stuff from the corner of my eye. After the incident with my track jacket, I was even more paranoid about everything around me. It didn’t have to be my personal stuff. I feared for everyone around me. With him gone I also felt a little more relaxed talking with Rachel and Jay. It was tough trying to chat over the loud music once the DJ kicked in, but we were managing pretty well. I was just glad to see Jay relaxing. At all the other work functions that Rachel had brought him along to, he always seemed reserved and uncomfortable. I always figured that we were a pretty rowdy group to take all in at first, but really he was just a shy person.
I headed to the dance floor when a great song came on and Rachel came with me. It was fun as hell having a girl to dance with. The dynamic is always different than when dancing with a guy. It’s not the matter of dancing “with” that guy but that men and women move differently. Dancing with a guy I’m always prone to move in compliment to the guy’s style. A girl is like the same side of the coin and I can cut loose with my own moves rather than trying to accommodate for someone else’s. When Jay joined us a moment later, all I could do was clap and laugh. If the people at work could see her boyfriend now; they wouldn’t think he was such a silent entity.
The two of them took off when Renzo returned, feeling bad about leaving me alone so early in the night. I assured them I was perfectly fine, but they waited just the same. In the mean time I had closed out my tab and was drinking nothing but water. They both gave me big smiles and hugs as they left. Even though four people had showed up that night, Rachel had just turned twenty-one and I was pleased with myself that both of them had enjoyed the music and had danced quite a bit.
Renzo and I spent the rest of the night bouncing from upstairs to the Hip Hop music that was being played downstairs. I felt so out of the loop trying to dance to Hip Hop but as always it felt like old times dancing with Renzo. I still did my very best to try and keep him dancing upstairs mostly. I was ecstatic when I saw Flave take over the turn tables as the Headliner for the night. Yet as his set progressed his transitions were damn rough. I had never seen him be anything but a show stopper. Yet it was his mistakes that were stopping the dancers this time.
When Renzo and I headed our separate ways for the night, I was glad I had gotten the change to hang out with him and catch up. We hardly talked or hung out any more.

With all of that behind me I feel sort of strange about my partying now. As my friends and I grow older, I’m still the only one that enjoys dancing. The clubbing atmosphere is still a strange place for most people, which make them uncomfortable. I can’t understand why people would go to clubs if it wasn’t for the music and dancing. Yet the general twenty-something’s continually burn themselves out spending tons of money on alcohol and trying to make frivolous connections with the opposite sex that never end in true love.
I guess when it comes down to it I can’t see the clubbing world through their eyes and they can’t see it through mine. The scariest thing to men is dancing it seems, but saying only men would be inaccurate. Dancing just isn’t a past time people generally enjoy copious amounts of. It’s a special occasion or a school organized function that get people interested enough in spending time in this fashion.
To me dancing is apart of life and the ultimate appreciation for music. To live without it seems unthinkable. That’s been the upside of the friends that I’ve made through MySpace. These people are as much at home as I am in the club, and as desperately in love with the music. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
For now I can only thing of the future and the adventures that await me. I also have some close friends that are soon to be twenty-one. My only hope is that Clubbing Queen’s “zero loss” streak will remain, and that I can continue to help the “next generation” appreciate clubs for what they are really for.