Saturday, February 25, 2006

Surface Exploration

I swear this won't become a post about going out and getting drunk. I'm extremely optimistic about the club and bar scene, in that I believe it can be about so much more. You could go out, and really have a life changing experience; something that would redefine who you are, not just for the night, but forever after. Unfortunately, it's difficult to have a profound social adventure when you're having difficulty seeing peoples faces or constructing thoughts non-verbally. So, without further delay, here is a post about going out and getting drunk. Enjoy.

Lets start with a list.
A couple new warning signs of drunkenness:

1) Before leaving home, after having consumed a foh-dee, you deliberate about which foot should wear cotton and which should wear wool. You see, despite angrily groping every wool looking fabric on the ground for about 10 minutes, you can only find one wool sock. Your decision? The right hemisphere is more important, so due to the contralateral properties of the brain, the left foot should get the
wool sock.
This seems like intelligent reasoning at the time.

2) Playing pool, you go for a difficult shot and, with some frustration, miss completely.
“what are you doing?”
“What? I missed. I suck. Your turn.”
Your friend picks up the ball looks at you with “What the fuck” all over his face, and you see that he's holding a striped ball that you could of sworn was the cue ball when you hit it just seconds ago.
It is a fortunate thing that only other person who saw that is this middle aged man staring blankly at the table, apparently in a comatose drunken state. He won't tell anyone, after all, he's on your side.

[end of warnings]

We sit down at a table, with beer mugs in hand, staring out a window into the street, and having established the environmental cliché, I get the uncontrollable urge to initiate a discussion about women. Specifically concerning the dilemma of being attracted to girls even though you have nothing in common, and you can't see anything in them that you'd like to see in yourself.
D twists in his chair and looks over at the bar, “Like the bartender?”
No, not like the bartender. “Yes, like the bartender.”
“Well, thats how it goes.”
Although correct, this is NOT a satisfactory answer, but we're already on the move again, upstairs to play the aforementioned pool game. Conversation for the night has come to an end.

The rest of the night is devoted to typical club fare. Dancing with a few girls is ego inflating, but little else. I notice I'm having difficulty seeing whether they have attractive faces. I can see body shapes pretty clearly, but noses and eyes are a jumbled mess. My world becomes broken down to shapes and colors. I hunt around for attractive shapes and colors like some prehistoric mammal.

This becomes my entire selection process. And lets be realistic, dancing skill doesn't come into play unless there is so little of it that they are tripping over themselves and flailing around on the ground. And even then, they could be breakdancing.

How much longer should I spend rubbing up against strangers? I'm still drunk from the last beer I had 2 hours ago. This is starting to feel like a hollow, meaningless planet. My world is this: Bright lights, overwhelming bass, no one talks, and there are no faces. I am on mars.

I can feel alcohol draining my body of health and energy, it's time to flee. However, I meet some confusion at the coat check. Somewhere, in this wallet is the ticket that will deliver my coat to me. I dig around, find it, and victoriously hand it to the coat check girl. The look on her face seems hauntingly familiar. I have just proudly handed her a NY metro card.
Damnit! Again?

So here's the moral in all this: Get drunk and you will spend the rest of your night trying to cling to some degree of intelligence, and continually failing at that, to the disbelief and amusement of those who surround you. You will feel stupid and shallow
and the next night, you will probably do it all again.


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