A Saturday Night in the City Lights

I always wanted to go to the city.

Something about those thousands of lights, the buzz of bars and clatter of plates in restaurants and the quirky scent of side shops make my senses smile as I walk along the street.

And the people. The people! So many of them and just as many types. The casual ones. The classy ones and the weird ones. The ones who bounce with energy and the ones who amble along in contentment. I see possibility and potential.

I went to a club.

It was dark and dirty and smelled of toilet water. Bright multicoloured lasers danced along the walls and ceiling as the speakers blasted an endless pulsing gush of rhythmic bass and melodious treble into my cranium. I was going to own this night. This was my chance to outdance the dancers and to bring smiles to the ladies!


My companion was amongst the crowd, throwing his arms into the air and bouncing with the bodies around him. He and I would run into eachother frequently throughout the night but we were not meant to stay by eachothers’ side. I turned and went to another section of the club. I went upstairs. I went to the bar. I went to the garden filled with people chatting and laughing underneath gas heaters. I was an explorer witnessing a new part of the world.

I was exhausted, physically and socially. After flailing my limbs to song after song in the endless flow of loud music and smiling and shouting jokes at stranger after stranger at crazy-eyed man after pretty girl after man that I could’ve sworn used a time travelling machine to transport himself directly from the 80’s, after hours and hours of this, I was tired. But I would stick around a little longer for my friend. This was his first night here in a long time. I closed my eyes on the dancefloor and decided to continue moving half-heartedly to the repetitive music.

Then something grabbed my hand and pulled me sideways. And suddenly I was looking into the shining eyes of a beautiful woman in red. She bounded with smiling energy. I moved my feet oddly and awkwardly to keep up with her graceful gusto. She just smiled all the more. I will lose all my memories of that night as time goes on, but I know her face will be the last to go.

I drove us home at 4am. There was no energy to laugh nor to even talk about the night.

I didn’t own the night like I expected. I didn’t outdance the dancers nor did I make many ladies smile at all. I wasn’t swept up in a tide of joy and I ran out of steam sooner than I thought.

But that’s okay. I’ll get better at this if I do it more.

And if not?

There’s other places, and other nights.

I see possibility and potential.



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