ROCK, ROCK, PLANET ROCK!!!
First thing this morning, I thought about my clubbing days, and where my ex-club buddies were. I don't know why at this particular point in my life I would think about them besides the fact I'm 51 years old, and they've got to be close to my age (or older, in some cases). I'm married, have children, AND grandchildren. Do they?
I worked with one of my clubbers in dietary at the local university hospital. I distinctly remember her fair skinned self trying to tan herself into looking darker. It was obvious she had a lack of confidence in her mixed heritage as she would only date dark skinned Black men, and wouldn't even consider dating White men (even though she was half white). She was in school to become an x-ray technician, and I doubt if she made it through the program. She partied WAY too much, and continually failed her exams.
Another partier was quite tall. She towered over me, and was somewhat intimidating with her size. She was younger than I, and had fake identification. Funny as hell as one night we tried to enter the club, and the dummy had a dark-skinned woman's ID. With her being extremely fair-skinned, I seriously doubted she would gain entrance. The doorman laughed in her face AND took her ID, too! She was man hungry, and wanted to go to the NCO Club that was on the military base. I didn't want to go because these dudes were thirsty and starved. I wasn't given up my stuff to just anyone! (LMBAOOO)
Then there was another dude-ish looking chick I partied with very briefly. I didn't hang out with her that long because she enjoyed being high. She'd drop pills and drink alcohol. I wasn't into the "high" thing. That's a very dumb practice when you're out clubbing. You'll wake up in a back alley with no clothes nor wallet.
And then there was John. He started partying with the aforementioned chick until they had a falling out. Strange thing being is that I don't remember his last night, but I do recall it was German. He, too, enjoyed a variety of inebriates which included pills and alcohol. Often times, he licked postage stamps of speed, and would go off on a tangent all willy-nilly like. Though he was fun when we partied, he was a real bitch when we weren't. I think he was mentally unstable, and I never felt comfortable outside of the club with him.
I stopped clubbing when I met my husband. He wasn't into partying at clubs, and I guess that was all well and good. I pulled it together, got my nurses' degree, created a business, married, had children, grandchildren, blah, blah, blah. I wonder if my buddies had the same successes? Good question. They were hot messes that didn't seem to fit in any other environment other than the club scene. Maybe I should look them up?
And maybe not. Some things are better left alone!
rainwriter jones
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