Shiny Thing Syndrome

I’m not quite as young as I use to be. Oh the good old days when I was doing a manual labor job on a single hour’s worth of sleep and felt ready to roll out that evening and party until six in the morning again. No more… or maybe I’m just out of practice. It’s been about three years since I was at the height of my clubbing escapades. Honestly it’s probably both. I’m not getting any younger and I strongly believe that sleep schedules are something you train your body into and no human operates on the eight hour schedule we’re told to. It is actually smaller increments like two or four hour cycles that if interrupted are the same as having bad or no sleep. For someone to feel rested they need a full cycle completed.
As I drug ass through work yesterday, it was very clear that my body was telling me I most definitely interrupted a cycle of major proportions. But for some reason being tired always makes me more attentive to details and my surroundings. I’m expecting to be oblivious because I’m tired. In the past I find I’ve made more mistakes because I had a full nights rest and just got lazy. What can I say? I’m quirky.
Wednesday night at about four in the morning, the boys had said I should meet back up with them at DJ L’s house where we would head out to the Last Supper Club together. I was terribly excited about the idea of riding with these guys and actually being apart of the crew. Yes! I have achieved full “friend-dom”. No matter what happened that night I know I was in it for the long haul and I was going to have a damn good time.
Nine o’clock found me practically asleep on DJ L’s couch. My adrenaline, or my spunk, or just my sheer will power gave up the ghost the minute I had time to sit down for five seconds. It was deadly. DJ L was pacing around on the phone trying to see where DJ S and Joey were and I was thinking that if I just finished up the last two Smirnoff Ice bottles that I had left in the fridge from the night before, that I’d perk up and be ready to party. For some reason my college education in Biology didn’t kick in with the obvious knowledge that alcohol, even at five percent, is a DEPRESSANT. There was no chance of that jump-starting my night. Hence my oh so attractive position, sprawled out nearly comatose with my warm-snowflake covered stocking feet kicked up on one armrest of DJ L’s nice leather couch. Not quiet the party-girl I make myself out to be. Damn I’m getting old!
At ten-thirty I had roused my self enough to be conversational and not quiet so appallingly sleepy to the point of drooling. DJ S wasn’t going to make it over to the house any time soon and DJ L wanted to get going. S was working on “S-Time”, DJ L announced. He’d make it when he made it, and that was always late. The plan was to meet up with S and Joey at the club and we were just going to head right out.
Jumping into L’s little beater car I had to laugh. A month ago we had been emailing back and forth about my car accident and he had told me about the fact that he had one nice car, a convertible BMW, for summer days and a beater to take him everywhere else. Indeed the outside looked like a beater. Inside it of course had a brand new stereo system that made the drive out like a like an auditory pre-funk. He popped in a new mix that he was working on and again I immediately thought how damn cool it was to be friends with someone that had DJ skills. Most of my life I’ve been hunting through stores, reading the backs of CD’s or listening to five second clips on the internet in order to buy music that I hoped with appease my insatiable need for new music. Sometimes I’d win, a lot of the time I’d lose. Now here I was sitting in the car with a DJ who has very similar tastes in music. I couldn’t lose! Wiggling around in my seat, we zoomed off to the club while I was either trying to calm my urge to dance or sing along to several tracks that I recognized from the night before.
Arriving at the club we marched in the door and stood looking around at whom else was there. The crowd looked awful sparse as of yet and he headed for the bar with the sort of determination that made me think he was going to find whatever he was looking for there. With a nod and a hand squeeze from Shannon, the first of several rounds started. I was staying light with more Smirnoff Ice. Completely without the intention or the funds to get drunk that night, I took the first one as charity and a “cheers” for a good night to come. I was really looking forward to hanging out and letting what ever the night would bring, just happen. I’m always so penned in with the responsibility of driving myself home, or getting somewhere that I’m required to be, or hell even knowing when my welcome has warn out.
Wandering away with our drinks, DJ L was waylaid by some friends and I wandered off toward the dance floor. I refuse to be a DJ groupie. I hate it when I’m trying to talk to a friend of mine and there is that person that “wants” to be involved but really isn’t, hanging there trying to seem involved by acquaintance. I don’t ever want to be that person. I’ve met tons of people that I’ve wanted to meet on my own because that person really was interested in meeting me at that particular time, not because I was standing next to another DJ trying to look important enough to be included in the conversation.
Which, in fact, is mostly impossible with most of the local DJ’s that ran in this circle. Standing back and watching interactions between people is a specialty of mine. These guys, although mostly humble about their talents, really and truly ignore anyone trying to be a “hanger-on”. The minute a person doesn’t have something important to say, or prove to be an interesting person in any account, they’re gone. That groupie is no longer in the room. It sounds horribly rude, but I’m talking about beyond normal stranger pleasantries. These DJ’s don’t suffer idiots that just want to blather on about their favorite songs or other useless shit that has nothing to do with anything more than that person feeling cool for a second because they were talking to the DJ. I kind of admire that. They aren’t blowing smoke up anyone’s ass and it eliminates that problem of being nice to “that one guy” who later doesn’t take the hint that he’s really just a loser and acts like you’re his best friend any time he sees you.
I was really excited to see Speedy G and Cameo take over the turntables as the mid-spot DJ’s for the night. I just love anything that Speedy G does and Cameo is a very talented DJ. Speedy always has that awesome mixture of older standards that seem to come right off my favorite list, to current hits that make it so easy to jump up and participate in the dance floor. Cameo has a style that reminds me of what Solitude is going for, lots of mash-ups of seventies and eighties songs. I’ve started to stereotype Cameo as the “play boy” DJ. He’s always dressed trendy with his entourage of hot girls that fill up the front of the stage area whenever he’s spinning. It’s hard to look at him and think that he’s ever had a rough day in his life.
After them was Flave and Hyperfunk as headliners and of course I was just ecstatic. Talk about a great line up. All my favorite DJ’s in one night, who understand to the smallest measure how to keep a dance floor jumping. And I was definitely jumping, or trying to. The problem was that I was getting drunk, and not because I was having fun. It was because I was feeling completely ignored. Of all the silly and completely retarded girly things to do, I still couldn’t help feeling miffed about the fact that the only time I had seen L had been to be handed another drink. When DJ S and Joey finally arrived, S was totally low energy and Joey seemed to be in a terrible mood.
I was feeling horribly guilty about all the drinks I was being handed by L and made a big point of saying that I was only bumping back into him at the bar to say “hi”, not to mooch another drink off of him. I only got a big grin and another drink as a response. Not really what I was hoping for but at least he wasn’t upset about it. When I tried talking to S on the dance floor he just seemed either depressed or sick. Joey on the other hand only had caustic things to say about everything I tried to talk to him about. He kept poking at S and yelling at him to, “be more fun!” I wanted to intervene and mentioned that we had all been up until at least four that morning. Joey didn’t really seem to think that was any kind of excuse. At that point I just moved away. There was no pleasing the guy.
Bumping into DJ L again, I took my drink and was trying to find something to talk about. When nothing came to mind, we just stood for a moment staring over people’s heads toward the stage where Flave was having some difficulties with his set. As impossible as it seemed, his problems were basic, that double drum kick hit that signals trouble. Beat matching was going awry. Out of no where, I hear a female voice from behind me scream, “Get the Fuck out of my way!” At no point did I ever think she was talking to me. I merely turned to see what the drama was about. A shorter brunette swinging an arm that at first looked like it was in a cast, gave me the elbow in the back on the way through and in one smooth motion threw her arms around DJ L in a huge intimate hug. I watched from a distance for a moment, and then moved back toward the dance floor. The girl was giving me the evil eye over L’s shoulder even as I backed off to increase the space from the situation, which was tough to do with the crowded nature of being that close to the bar.
While DJ L was off being a social butterfly I wandered about feeling a little lost and forgotten. I was dancing and having a great time, but I was starting to worry about getting left behind. What if he took off? What if he wanted to hang out with his friends later and I was total baggage? At this point I was starting to ponder my options at getting home so that I wasn’t a total drag on anyone’s night.
I was also realizing that most of my friends that I had made here all had several circles that they ran in. When they were done talking to one group there was always another group to check in with. I’ve NEVER had that. I’ve never had more than one friend at a time that I see at a club, that I could say more that a hello to. That was kind of depressing! I was always such a lone wolf when it came to clubbing and dancing. None of the people that I called friends liked clubs or dancing as much as I. Making friends inside this world of House music, was next to impossible for me as well. People really have such varied ideas and agendas when it comes to clubbing. I guess I’m too much of a purist most of the time. If you ain’t dancing, you ain’t worth my time. Wandering about the club, I really opened my eyes to plenty of people that I saw on a regular basis through all the years and dance floors that came to just bob their heads and nothing more. It didn’t make them less of a House music fan, nor did it make them less of a clubber. They were there, they were involved, and they were dancing in their own way.
S seemed to be perking up a bit the next time I bumped into him on the dance floor, Joey on the other hand still seemed a completely displeased with life as he had earlier. “Where the hell is your boy?” I shook my head. DJ L was most certainly NOT my boy, and I had no idea. Mentioning that I wasn’t his keeper I did agree that I had been a while since I had even spotted the guy from across the room. The idea made me nervous. What if he had taken off with that Brunette? I’d be stranded! I tried not to think about it much since I knew I was drunk.
Ultimately, in one of my passes through the club, I noticed DJ L secreted away to the side of the bar next to the men’s room, deep in conversation with Speedy G. I tried to assure Joey that he was talking business, but that just lead to an unhappy comment about hanging out with real friends. I was more inclined to be happy for DJ L. I knew he was friends with Speedy, and that they really did seem to be talking business. If that meant radio time, then all the better for DJ L.
When L did finally come out and play, he was dancing by himself in a corner. I was almost insulted that he had chosen to go off by himself. I hadn’t really talked to him all night. There had been a million things I had either wanted to ask about the DJ who was currently on the decks or just for the sake of making a joke I thought he would find funny, and just had to deal with the fact that he was busy. In the few times that I had hung out at the club with him I’d spent a lot more “quality” time with him in comparison, all this “friend” time that night wasn’t proving to be all that bonding.
Of all the terrible things, I found myself standing at one of the tables off to the side, staring into my bitch beer feeling very alone. I was watching all the people dancing and having fun, and felt so very distant from it all. Normally this would lay me out for the night and I would have ordered a taxi home and slipped off into the shadows, hoping to be unnoticed. This time around I shook it off and after downing the rest of my drink, told myself that I was drunk and being a dork. I walked right up to L, bumping into him playfully and danced in his corner for a while. I moved on to bump into S for a moment and just plain dance around the floor feeling the music, which was the GOD DAMN POINT.
When the lights came on and the music faded away, I was sad. I was just getting back into the groove of it all. Flowing outside, I lost track of L who headed back to the bar to close out his tab. I hated to think what the night had cost him; he certainly hadn’t adhered to his three beer rule. A stop at the After Hours was definitely in our future because neither of us should drive.
Standing on that street corner watching people is usually depressing. The desperate hook-ups based on the availability of cigarettes and the bums that descend upon the crowd willing to do anything for change, just made a sober person lose faith in man-kind for a moment. I was realizing that I was not as drunk as I had thought and was pleased by it. The cold air was snapping me out of my dancing haze and I was starting to feel the strain of the late hour. Did I really think I could get through a full after-hours session, drive home and then get up for work? Then again, it was a little too late to be asking myself these questions.
When DJ L came outside at last, he seemed to catch sight of me and veer off in the complete and total opposite direction. Everywhere but near where I was standing. I watched the guy run off to people’s cars to say goodnight, trot off the other way to talk to some more people. Call me paranoid but I really was starting to feel like the guy had just remembered he had carpooled with me and was deeply regretting it. Patiently I stood on that corner and tried to keep my cool. When he finally stopped next to me, DJ L asked if I wanted to do after hours at the club up the road. He knew he couldn’t drive at the time. I mentioned the fact that I had no cash on me. At that he frowned and I felt terrible. I hadn’t wanted to be a drag and here I was doing it anyway. In the middle of that unfortunate discussion the Brunette from earlier paraded through the middle deciding to unload more unhappy tiding on the poor inebriated guy.
In obvious tears, and swaying on her feet with both emotion and intoxication she sobbed that he had broken her heart. She’d never had the courage to say something to him until now, but she had thought he liked her too. Being drug away in a friend’s arms, she just kept calling back that she was going to go home and cry because of him. I backed way off when she started pouring her heart out. I didn’t want to be responsible for this added drama in L’s life. I hate how guys and girls can’t ever be just friends. No matter what, society has to throw something in there that makes everything suspect. L gave me this real gut-punched expression and mumbled that he had no idea why she would feel as strongly as she had expressed.
Returning to our discussion as to how we were going to spend the rest of the night, I could tell he was caught between getting the hell away from the whole situation and going to after hours. Back and forth we seemed to bounce the idea of me driving both of us home in his car or just trying to con our way past the door at Contour for after hours. When no decision was made he just wandered off to talk with some other people. I stood there feeling totally lost and out of place. I really didn’t know these people. I didn’t know any of the history. What the hell was I doing out on this street corner at two in the morning?
On a final pass through I agreed to drive his car, in order to get us both home. Nodding he walked away again to talk to some more people and I had had it. Pissed off and feeling totally unwanted I spun on my heel and walked across the street. Heading through the pay parking lot that I normally stashed my car in, I kept going even when I heard DJ L’s running foot steps behind me. At that moment in time he could walk home, for all I cared. If he really didn’t want to hang out with me then he should have damn well said so instead of blowing me off for a half hour while he talked with every single other person on the planet other than me. I told him so when he caught up with me beside his car.
He surprised me by seeming genuinely upset at the idea I was unhappy with him. He also mentioned that Joey had unloaded his displeasure on him as well. All in all he’d had a tough night. The Brunette had unloaded on him and his friends were angry at him for not spending any time with them. Listening to him talk, I realized that he was just another guy with the great quality that men got when they’ve had a lot to drink. They all have varying degrees of it, but it can be damn annoying if you don’t know to expect it. I call it “Shiny Thing Syndrome”. Something about alcohol turns a guy into an ADD case. Every little detail is distracting and life altering. They see someone across the room and it doesn’t matter if you were having an earth shattering conversation at the time, he’s now running off to talk to the person he just saw. And on and on it goes as the next person or thing catches his attention. I felt my whole state relax about the events of the night, knowing now what I did. None of it was personal. It was just the way it worked out.
Driving home in L’s car I realized why I had mistaken it for a stick-shift. The car didn’t want to accelerate. On the drive down he had been shifting the automatic car like a manual to help it along. Now here I was with my foot to the floor waiting for the engine to catch up with me. Part of me was worried that the beater wouldn’t make it home or that I was going to break something since I wasn’t driving it the same way he would have been.
It was early morning when I tucked the blanket around DJ L on the couch and headed home myself. I had gotten us both home safe and I was glad I could do it. After all was said and done I’ll have gotten a couple good hours if sleep before work, and I was just going to deal with the rest of it. That was the price of a night a night on the town.