So Proud of Me....
I went to a nightclub.
Wait, that's a lie. I have gone to nightclubs before. There was a huge difference between this time and every other time, however, and I wish to share it with you now.
This time, I was in a nightclub and I was not completely fricken' hammered.
In a state of complete and total sobriety, I walked into a club and then proceeded to make my way to the dance floor.
The first time another person, a member of a party I did not walk in with, entered my personal space? I will not lie.
I hid behind my dearest best friends, T and Mal. The person who had entered my personal space then looked at me as though I was deranged and stalked haughtily away. I live for the day that I find myself in a position that I may stalk haughtily away.
It was an entirely new experience for me, one that I am glad I have had. I got to experience the drama of the bar scene. I witnessed two near fights between people who were clearly ridiculously hammered. I witnessed complete strangers making out with each other with such fervor that certainly the ceilings should have collapsed. I saw drunk people engaging in dance moves that should not be attempted by anyone other than trained professionals. I cabbed home -- to Mal's home, that is-- and had actual coherent conversation with the cab driver on the way there.
There were times in the past when I thought that it was simply impossible to enter a place of such loud music, of so many people, of so many sights and sounds and sensations without the effects of sincere inebriation.
And now I know that those thoughts were simply misguided.
I only needed to try it once, and many years later, to realize that it was entirely possible all these years.
Who would have thought?