The music was too loud to hear anything and
the club had too many people,
most of them absolutely shitfaced.
You could feel the bass in your chest
and the lights were enough
to induce a seizure in anyone.
You had to shimmy by the shitfaced people,
in order to make it to the dance floor,
and once you found a spot,
you were stuck there.
The drunks bump into you,
spilling your drink
on your new white shoes.
There are women everywhere,
but dancing with a drunk stranger,
in an environment like this,
holds no appeal to you anymore.
You’d rather meet them in a nice,
well lit,
quiet cafe;
one that has plants
and a nice charm to it.
A place where you can hold a conversation.
You try to think back to the times when you actually enjoyed this,
and what the hell you enjoyed about it.
You remember all the times you got kicked out of this club for being too drunk.
Too drunk in a sea of drunks is pretty damn drunk.
You still have the bitter taste in your mouth
from all the times
the bouncer,
who you swear had it out for you,
grabbed you by the arm
and escorted you to the alley.
It’s a bit of a bummer when you go out with a group of friends
and then get kicked to the street without them.
You just wander around,
hoping one of them will come out soon.
As you stand on the dance floor,
you feel like you no longer belong here.
You feel too old for these shenanigans.
You’re almost 30,
and this type of partying,
with these type of people,
in this type of place,
makes you feel both bored,
and angry.
You feel like you could punch the next person that bumps into you.
But then you see her,
the one you’ve been crushing on for awhile now;
and the drunk people,
the over priced drinks,
the seizure inducing lights,
the deafening music
and the shitty memories,
they all become worth it in this one moment.
Your cheeks turn red,
your heart starts beating like crazy,
and a stupid drunk grin
spreads across your face like madman;
or,
like a drunk man in love.
-C.H.