I'm in Adams Morgan at a French Cafe, sipping on a tasty latte and waiting on my meal to arrive. My head is spinning a little--last night was a bit hardcore--and I find myself, as usual being a bit introspective.
Maybe i'm not that introspective, but I'm definitely winded. My knee hurts a bit from riding my bike up and down and I'm thinking about last night. I wanted to ring in the inaugural weekend for 2008 doing it up Wonderland style, but i was only in Wonderland for about fifteen minutes. A friend shot me a text at some point during those minutes:
"Come to Club 5, we have guest hookup!"
At that point, the crowd at Wonderland was pretty chill except for an extremely tall blond woman dancing with three other people excitedly on the dance floor. I see some of the regulars there, and they recognize me, which makes me realize i'm a regular as well. I've never said hello to any of these fellows, but each time I go to the W, I see them, and no doubt they see me. I can see why Wonderland is a stomping ground for some people every week, but this week nothing much seemed to be taking place.
I say hi to a few people and chit-chat with a new bartender. She's lived in DC for seven years and seems to like it. Interesting historical profile: Grew up in wealthy New York suburb, went to college in DC, been here for a bit. She seemed cool. Maybe in a few weeks I'll get a free beer or two from her.
The night would be interesting, primarily because of my new "mobile" status, with my bike the city is an open book (granting i'm not tipsy or extremly cold while riding). Last year, I wouldn't have entertained my friends offer to go to Club 5, because I would have to walk four blocks in the cold to the metro in Columbia Heights, wait on a train to arrive (anywhere from 5-20 mins), switch lines (another 5-20mins) then walk to Dupont (a good 5 blocks) and THEN i'd arrive at my destination which MAY or may not be jumping. With my bike, I could be in Dupont within ten minutes.
I sipped on my second beer and I was ready to go. I run into a buddy of mine and we catch up for a few minutes. He calls dibs on a girl standing behind a friend of his.
"She's Swedish." he says with a grin. I smile to myself, Europe, Europe. During this brief interlude his friend, a six foot four guy with very intense eyes starts asking me about Pirates of the Caribbean three and why he wasted his time watching it. This dialogue ran on for forty-five seconds and then I headed out.
A quick ride later, I was in Dupont. I headed into the Lucky Bar to wait until my friends arrived and watched people play pool. My phone buzzed and I headed over to 5. "Ah man," the text says,"My host is wiling and you have to pay to get in. But I have two drinks for you when you come in!"
I consider the options. It costs ten to go in (not a problem) but the drink thing was an added incentive, and I didn't feel like heading back to wonderland. Therefore, I entered five. I immediately recognize the girl collecting money. She is Jen, an sharply attractive brunette who bartends at a restaurant I go to sometimes. We chat for a few minutes, I pay and then go upstairs.
My friends are at the top--the reggae floor--and they are the center of attention. Not only are they highly sociable fellows, but they are twins, a doubly cool factor in the rapidly social atmosphere of DC clubbing. Just before I went upstairs I chatted to my gorgeous bartender friend (also named Jen) for a few minutes downstairs. "I like your hair," I say to her.
"Thanks!" she chirps. "I cut it myself." I nod, saying: "It's very mod style."
She laughs and poses like I have a camera in my hand. "This is mod and this is the bod."
Upstairs there are mostly guys traipsing about. As usual, the guys playing reggae are playing the same tired tracks from the early nineties, mixed in with Random Sean Paul songs and the "this is why i'm hot" remix(I swear he was playing a track from "The Trinity" that NO one ever listens to). I cannot mentally enjoy myself at DC clubs on the Reggae floors. They need a Jamaican spinning or it just doesn't make sense. My friend, twin number one, thrusts a heineken and a shot into my hands. (Actually he rested it on the counter beside me, but I wanted to use "thrust" in this blog :p)
I don't know what the second drink is, but its extremely strong. I already had a drink from Jen, and now I start to feel buzzed. I listen to some music for a while and dance a bit, occasionally going down to the first floor where they are playing house music. I love house and I'm ready to dance the night away, all buzzed and wearing a biker's jersey.
I come back upstairs after a while and start talking to a group of girls directly in front of me. They are all blond in the same way... a sort of dirty blond style. One of the girls reminds me of the actress who was the Rockstar in Strange Days ... her friend, a girl named Jessica, agrees.
We talk for a while and the girls are cool. Jessica tells me I have a nice spirit. I smile at this.
"We are going downstairs, you should follow us!" her friend (Heidi) says to me. "Sure." I say.
A guy in a kangol-esque hat who was talking to Jessica for a few rolls with us. He motions for us to go to a back area, with some seats. We sit beside a red couch that's directly beside a stripper pole. "I have a dollar," I say to Michelle, blonde number three, "Do something for it."
She laughs and shakes her head. Michelle is the designated driver, and has been drinking water all night. The other ladies are quite buzzed. Under the din of the club music I see the dude in the Kangol hat take out a small coke vial. He does a hit and offers some to miss J. She hits it and I sip on my beer.
I think to myself, "Is this guy 'coke blocking' me?"
I laugh. Heidi notices me smiling at comes over. "Are you chasing my friend?" she says.
"Shes' cool." I reply. "But alas, the man with the coke trumps me." I laugh.
"Fuck the guy with the coke." she says." He is nobody, coke or not. You.... you are cool." I laugh as she says this. Its not a big deal anyways. I watch bodies moving on the dance floor for a while. A hand touches me. I turn to see the ladies gone. The guy with the hat motions for me to follow him.
I see the ladies some distance ahead and follow them up. By now my buzz is quite real, and I'm ready to start dancing all European-like. The twins are still in full form, dancing hard and bouncing people with drinks. They are cool company. At some point I see hat-guy in a dark corner with a girl with a LOT of hair all over him. His generosity seemed to pay off :p
Jessica walks over to me and grips me firmly around the waist. I laugh. We dance for a bit and head downstairs. The music and the alcohol have made my moment perfect: the girl was extra.
I find a nice spacious corner and start hopping and spinning in that "I could be high, could be drunk, could be just really really energetic" sort of way. Jessica dances along in a similar fashion, occasionally holding my hands as strobe lights flash over head. I love these moments, when I feel almost as if I have transcended reality and entered a world of only flashing lights and throbbing bass. This moment last for about eight minutes, and then Heidi and Michelle reappear. They are ready to leave.
I say my goodbyes and head to the bar. I chat to Jen a bit (the place was packed, but surprisingly the bar was semi-empty) and tell the twins goodbye. I ride home with cold wind hitting my face, thinking about flashing lights and the bass pumping within me. I wonder if I looked European on the dance floor.
who knows.
Maybe i'm not that introspective, but I'm definitely winded. My knee hurts a bit from riding my bike up and down and I'm thinking about last night. I wanted to ring in the inaugural weekend for 2008 doing it up Wonderland style, but i was only in Wonderland for about fifteen minutes. A friend shot me a text at some point during those minutes:
"Come to Club 5, we have guest hookup!"
At that point, the crowd at Wonderland was pretty chill except for an extremely tall blond woman dancing with three other people excitedly on the dance floor. I see some of the regulars there, and they recognize me, which makes me realize i'm a regular as well. I've never said hello to any of these fellows, but each time I go to the W, I see them, and no doubt they see me. I can see why Wonderland is a stomping ground for some people every week, but this week nothing much seemed to be taking place.
I say hi to a few people and chit-chat with a new bartender. She's lived in DC for seven years and seems to like it. Interesting historical profile: Grew up in wealthy New York suburb, went to college in DC, been here for a bit. She seemed cool. Maybe in a few weeks I'll get a free beer or two from her.
The night would be interesting, primarily because of my new "mobile" status, with my bike the city is an open book (granting i'm not tipsy or extremly cold while riding). Last year, I wouldn't have entertained my friends offer to go to Club 5, because I would have to walk four blocks in the cold to the metro in Columbia Heights, wait on a train to arrive (anywhere from 5-20 mins), switch lines (another 5-20mins) then walk to Dupont (a good 5 blocks) and THEN i'd arrive at my destination which MAY or may not be jumping. With my bike, I could be in Dupont within ten minutes.
I sipped on my second beer and I was ready to go. I run into a buddy of mine and we catch up for a few minutes. He calls dibs on a girl standing behind a friend of his.
"She's Swedish." he says with a grin. I smile to myself, Europe, Europe. During this brief interlude his friend, a six foot four guy with very intense eyes starts asking me about Pirates of the Caribbean three and why he wasted his time watching it. This dialogue ran on for forty-five seconds and then I headed out.
A quick ride later, I was in Dupont. I headed into the Lucky Bar to wait until my friends arrived and watched people play pool. My phone buzzed and I headed over to 5. "Ah man," the text says,"My host is wiling and you have to pay to get in. But I have two drinks for you when you come in!"
I consider the options. It costs ten to go in (not a problem) but the drink thing was an added incentive, and I didn't feel like heading back to wonderland. Therefore, I entered five. I immediately recognize the girl collecting money. She is Jen, an sharply attractive brunette who bartends at a restaurant I go to sometimes. We chat for a few minutes, I pay and then go upstairs.
My friends are at the top--the reggae floor--and they are the center of attention. Not only are they highly sociable fellows, but they are twins, a doubly cool factor in the rapidly social atmosphere of DC clubbing. Just before I went upstairs I chatted to my gorgeous bartender friend (also named Jen) for a few minutes downstairs. "I like your hair," I say to her.
"Thanks!" she chirps. "I cut it myself." I nod, saying: "It's very mod style."
She laughs and poses like I have a camera in my hand. "This is mod and this is the bod."
Upstairs there are mostly guys traipsing about. As usual, the guys playing reggae are playing the same tired tracks from the early nineties, mixed in with Random Sean Paul songs and the "this is why i'm hot" remix(I swear he was playing a track from "The Trinity" that NO one ever listens to). I cannot mentally enjoy myself at DC clubs on the Reggae floors. They need a Jamaican spinning or it just doesn't make sense. My friend, twin number one, thrusts a heineken and a shot into my hands. (Actually he rested it on the counter beside me, but I wanted to use "thrust" in this blog :p)
I don't know what the second drink is, but its extremely strong. I already had a drink from Jen, and now I start to feel buzzed. I listen to some music for a while and dance a bit, occasionally going down to the first floor where they are playing house music. I love house and I'm ready to dance the night away, all buzzed and wearing a biker's jersey.
I come back upstairs after a while and start talking to a group of girls directly in front of me. They are all blond in the same way... a sort of dirty blond style. One of the girls reminds me of the actress who was the Rockstar in Strange Days ... her friend, a girl named Jessica, agrees.
We talk for a while and the girls are cool. Jessica tells me I have a nice spirit. I smile at this.
"We are going downstairs, you should follow us!" her friend (Heidi) says to me. "Sure." I say.
A guy in a kangol-esque hat who was talking to Jessica for a few rolls with us. He motions for us to go to a back area, with some seats. We sit beside a red couch that's directly beside a stripper pole. "I have a dollar," I say to Michelle, blonde number three, "Do something for it."
She laughs and shakes her head. Michelle is the designated driver, and has been drinking water all night. The other ladies are quite buzzed. Under the din of the club music I see the dude in the Kangol hat take out a small coke vial. He does a hit and offers some to miss J. She hits it and I sip on my beer.
I think to myself, "Is this guy 'coke blocking' me?"
I laugh. Heidi notices me smiling at comes over. "Are you chasing my friend?" she says.
"Shes' cool." I reply. "But alas, the man with the coke trumps me." I laugh.
"Fuck the guy with the coke." she says." He is nobody, coke or not. You.... you are cool." I laugh as she says this. Its not a big deal anyways. I watch bodies moving on the dance floor for a while. A hand touches me. I turn to see the ladies gone. The guy with the hat motions for me to follow him.
I see the ladies some distance ahead and follow them up. By now my buzz is quite real, and I'm ready to start dancing all European-like. The twins are still in full form, dancing hard and bouncing people with drinks. They are cool company. At some point I see hat-guy in a dark corner with a girl with a LOT of hair all over him. His generosity seemed to pay off :p
Jessica walks over to me and grips me firmly around the waist. I laugh. We dance for a bit and head downstairs. The music and the alcohol have made my moment perfect: the girl was extra.
I find a nice spacious corner and start hopping and spinning in that "I could be high, could be drunk, could be just really really energetic" sort of way. Jessica dances along in a similar fashion, occasionally holding my hands as strobe lights flash over head. I love these moments, when I feel almost as if I have transcended reality and entered a world of only flashing lights and throbbing bass. This moment last for about eight minutes, and then Heidi and Michelle reappear. They are ready to leave.
I say my goodbyes and head to the bar. I chat to Jen a bit (the place was packed, but surprisingly the bar was semi-empty) and tell the twins goodbye. I ride home with cold wind hitting my face, thinking about flashing lights and the bass pumping within me. I wonder if I looked European on the dance floor.
who knows.
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