By Craig P. Dixon, southcoast247.com correspondent Social Commentary 77
September 19, 2006
A couple weeks ago, I met this girl at the beach. She had a great, dark
brown tan, a tiny body obviously built more for speed than comfort, and
(BONUS!) the longest, dirtiest blondest hair I’d seen in a couple days.
We got to talking, and things seemed promising. She had just graduated from
PC and lived in Pawtucket for shit’s sake!
Then she had to go and ask, “So, which clubs do you go to when you’re home?”
My hopes for any future encounters with this chick died off quicker than the
Croc Hunter with that one stupid question. After all, who goes clubbing
anymore? 17 to 19-year-olds? Because that’s the last time I ever thought a
club was cool. I haven’t been to an actual “club” since I was 19 and have
absolutely no desire to visit one today.
So, I told the young lady in plain, to-the-point, straight-faced terms, “I
don’t go clubbing.”
“Not even Ultra?”
My mood (and facial expression) continued to sour as she questioned me about
a place that a) I’d never heard of, and b) could give a shit less about.
“No. Not even Super Mega Ultra Club. No clubs, period. Not for me.”
Now, most people get an answer like that and move on. They stop asking
stupid fucking questions about something that the other party wants no part
of, and they push on to another subject.
But noooo, this broad asks, “Why not?”
I was absolutely furious. I didn’t want to talk about clubs anymore. I
wanted to go for a swim and cavort like baby seals near shore as South Beach
waves vied with each other for the pleasure of tearing off her very small
top before my eagerly awaiting eyes.
Obviously, that was not to be. I inhaled deeply and prepared to drive a
dagger into whatever newborn friendship we’d formed that beautiful August
beach day.
“Because, clubbin’s for dipshit kids that don’t know any better. The last
time I so much as stepped foot in a club, I was 19-years-old. I was young
and dumb, and couldn’t give a shit less what music I was listening to, what
terrible manufactured bullshit I was putting in my body, or why I had really
gone to a fucking club in the first place.’
‘And the answer to that, darlin’, is I was totally a creature of the
surface, following someone else’s lead because it was the cool thing to do.
I could care less of the depths – of what a girl had to say about anything.
I just liked the eye candy, and even that, my dear, gets old. Club kids are
the most narcissistic cats on the planet. Want to kill a thousand club kids?
Put a hundred mirrors in the club. They’ll crowd each other for use of the
mirrors and never leave. Not to shit. Not to eat. A few hundred will get
crushed in the process. The rest will sit gazing at their reflections,
thinking they’re the most beautiful things on the planet as they slowly
waste away.’
‘Furthermore, club music is terrible, repetitive garbage. The same bass-line
continues ad nauseum. And nobody knew any better, because the kids at the
club were all doped up on E, K, or G or other designer drugs we’d recognize
after a one-letter abbreviation. The drinks were terribly overpriced, the
service awful, and, even if I wanted to get to know someone, I couldn’t,
because I’d have to scream over the way too loud music, spitting 10 dollar
Long Island all over whatever girl I had my eye on.’
‘Clubs blow. They’re a waste of fucking time. I’d rather go to a place where
I can take a seat and actually have a decent conversation with someone than
hit some dump filled with a bunch of drunks puking and fighting and passing
out all over the place. I’m over the clubbing shit, period.”
I stopped to inhale after my fiery monologue. My heart was pumping so hard I
thought I’d just gotten into a fistfight.
After a couple of seconds, the girl mentioned that she’d forgotten to call
home and walked back up to her blanket. She kept looking back at me with a
fearful look during her walk. My guess was that she was afraid I’d follow
her and continue my rant.
But somewhere around what I’d guess to be her third turn, immediately after
I’d caught my breath, I sprinted for the ocean, dove right in, and took the
swim I’d been meaning to take all conversation long.
We got to talking, and things seemed promising. She had just graduated from
PC and lived in Pawtucket for shit’s sake!
