March 21, 2005
There comes a time when one should say that enough is enough. Unfortunately, I have never been able to come to that conclusion before the fact...I decided to get there early since I had an obligation to meet a friend that I had not seen in months. I felt rather awkward to be the only one present besides the band members and few liquor laced bar huggers who had likely been there since noon, but I ordered my Captain and Coke, no fruit, and a glass of water and chatted with the friendly female bartender. It wasn't even a quarter after nine before she coerced me into joining her for a shot, stating that I should surely stop bouncing with a little assistance from Sir Blackhaus.
She was wrong. I only became all the more 'bouncy.'
Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little bouncing.
One by one, familiar faces eased through the door and into the dark where the band had just begun to play. The keyboard player's girlfriend behind the bar avoided me with all alacrity and mustered a grimmace that would startle a sailor whenever I caught her eye, but nothing could deter my taste for a fine night out on the town.
Well, a town, considering I wasn't even sure what town it was...
A song or two had already made a grand rotation and yet the dance floor desperately needed attending to. Mark, the lead singer, motioned for our company onto that wooden platform before the stage and Nick's girlfriend and I made our way toward the beckoning hand. The lights behind the stage shone brilliant in white and red and yellow and blue against the faces of the patrons to my left and right and nearly blinded my partner and I as we danced on by ourselves. Every tune we seemed to know and every tune we seemed to adore, despite the fact that I would make two steps back to the bar for another sip of that cocktail or light another cigarette from a diminishing pack.
One trip back to the bar and I caught sight of a man who had not graced our presence for at least month or two of weekends. But Dancing Dave did not appear to be in the shape for dancing as he donned a heavy leg brace on his left foot. I'm sure, after our embrace, that the events that led up to such an unfortunate circumstance were explained, though I cannot recall them now. It hardly made a difference when he wisked me onto the floor and began that same old seduction like a man with twice his agility and motion...
And DAMNED if that boy didn't keep it up for the duration of the evening.
By 1:00 a.m., the band members could do nothing more than shake their heads at the fantastic ability Dancing Dave projected onto that overly crowded dance floor. They returned the kindness of the shots of SoCo I had purchased them in order to praise me for keeping that boy out on the floor for two sets straight. The friend that I had been waiting for had finally made his entrance and we swapped acquaintences for dance partners more than a couple of times. He introduced me to his buddy, I introduced him to the girl still seated at the bar and soon we were all paired up on the floor.
By 1:45 a.m., the 'shot girl' that was originally in the back of the room had doffed her top and was dangling upside down from the rafters over the bar, wiggling her short shorted ass, not quite so in time with the music, and smiling at me as I handed her another dollar bill from my twindling collection. I laughed as she hugged me, bearing thanks (among other things), while securing her legs around that splintering wood over my head. She had been my dance partner earlier, while she was clothed, and this seemed enough to make us the greatest of pals for the rest of the night.
We sat around talking, giggling and being fussed over while the band put away their toys at the end of the night. There was to be a small after bar gathering at the infamous Dancing Dave's abode and I sucked on a Whiskey while contemplating the idea for a good 15 minutes. Patrons were still being requested to leave as the band waived the 'okay' for our little party of faithful followers to remain in house.
By 2:30 a.m., they broke out a bottle of booze and I knew then that I had to leave. 'It if isn't already, it could get a bit out of hand,' I thought, and quickly made my usual departing gestures. Details need not follow.
By 3:00 a.m., I made it home; with feet sore and legs aching. I stumbled into bed with clothes strewn about and alarm clocks turned off. I woke Saturday morning with an undesirable and consistent thud within my temples and a great need for hydration. I knew it was enough for one weekend and I knew I should just lay low...
But by 9:00 p.m., I was ready to do it all over again.
I suppose enough is never really enough...