A Soloist's Nightlife

I had one of those weekends that would make my "faux" accountant shiver in their boots.

Friday Night.

In an effort to try to add some flair and fun to this New Year I decided that this was the night of all nights to take myself dancing. Why, what was wrong with this night, you might ask? Even though there was no rain or snow in the weather we were to deal with some very 30 below freezing cold tempratures. The kind that make you wish you spent it on the couch instead of out and about gallivanting. I was in for a rude awakening. I had neglected to check the weather before I left so I took a very light jacket and made my way out of the house. Needless to say the plan changed mindstream.

First of all, everyone had the same plan to get out of the couch and hit the streets, so the street to the club was packed. Just maneuvring to get into it was difficult and then, the parking attendants had upped their price from $5 packing fee to a whopping $10 (talk about inflation!). At this point I knew alternative arrangements had to be made. So I drove about a mile away and packed my car for $5 but this meant I had to walk the entire block to the club. For this task a light jacket would not have sufficed so I broke out the big jacket in the trunk and there I was...freezing my butt off as I walked to the club, wishing the other me had succeeded in convincing me to stay home and try this some other time.

I have to say this about going out, especially solo. It gets harder in the winter than in the summer. In the winter, it's more of a group affair. People get together and decide that instead of chugging down beers at home, they would rather all go out. People that sit at home solo never reconsider their solo plans to lay on the couch. But it's the best place to be on a cold night. I recommend it to anyone. So going out solo requires a concerted effort on your part to want to go out, meet people, break out of your comfort zone and reject confinement by the piths of winter. But it just gives you that much needed jolt, that intensity that warms you up and leaves a lingering smile on your face for the next couple of days, maybe even a week. How can you not want to do it?

Back to my night. Even though my entry to Door 44 was waived because I put myself on the guestlist, I eventually had to pay $5 plus tip to hang my big ass winter coat. At this point I was pissed beyond heavens, I just thought to myself, I better have a good time.

Inevitably I did. There were no brooding strangers waiting to have intense conversations over the loud music and I didn't "hook up" with anyone. Apparently, there's this myth that women go to clubs to "hook up," whoever started that, I don't know. Not me. And it is so not the case. Instead it was a crowd filled, really packed to the rafters of let-your-hair-down fun. Most of it was spent dancing, bumping into people dancing, trying to dance and balance my drink in one hand dancing, a little bumping and grinding against total strangers, attempted salsa dancing, spilling out of my top dancing, a stray drink from some guy who decided not to stop and chat (thank goodness), more dancing and then, yelling at the top of our lungs as we attempted to sing along, and of course, dance. What else could comprise a fun evening? We came to have fun, right?

In the end, the night all came together nicely. The music. The intense loud crowd dancing as if we were at some rave. The alcohol was on point. This place still makes it up there in my book. Plus, the lady at the door didn't think twice when I told her I was there by myself this time. We are making progress. :-)

Will do it again. Everyone should do this...dance uncontrollably.