never to be repeated

the numbers on the clock in my car glowed 4:30. 4:30 in the morning, and I’m in my car. true, it’s only 3:30 here in evansville, and I’m almost home to my bed. but in louisville time, which is definitely what my body is acclimated to, it’s 4:30 in the morning. the night was wild – and something never to be repeated.

I went to a bacchelorette party for tracy, whom I went to high school with. it was a pretty unorganized party. we were going bar hopping, but we had a mess with designated drivers. miranda was a dd – she doesn’t drink anymore. I wouldn’t have minded being a dd – I knew I’d hang out with miranda anyway – but I hadn’t been to a bar before, and I wanted to have the experience.

the first bar was quiet. a band started playing, and we were right in front of the band, so that got annoying pretty quick. the second bar was downtown with a huge band playing and plenty of people dancing on the floor. the third bar was outdoors under a tent with an even louder band. where were cops and bouncers around, watching us.

I got a liquid cocaine at the first place. at the second place, I got a red headed slut followed directly by a vodka and sprite. I don’t really know what I drank – I just drank whatever someone else was getting. the two together did me in. the moment I finished them, we decided to get up and go to the third bar. as we walked out, someone asked me how I felt. I said “better!” and someone laughed. everything was somewhat funnier now. the ground and the right direction to go was somewhat more confusing now. in the car, driving to the next bar, the movement of the car from the backseat was disorienting. we got lost on the way to the next bar, though the others made it okay. it was hilarious to be lost. I remember cracking up in the backseat, putting my head against the seat in front of me and just laughing and laughing. I remember saying a couple of obnoxious things into the phone to miranda, who was wondering where we were.

when we got to the bar, we walked through a crowded parking lot, had our IDs checked, paid the cover charge, and then made our way through the extremely large crowd in search of our friends. we weaved through the crowd. I was having a hard enough time following my friends – I kept forgetting briefly who I was following, and people around me were moving too quickly at times. at the back of the bar were some tables – I ran into a chair as we passed by. then we turned around and went back the way we came, and I ran into the chair again.

I was starting to feel frustrated. I felt stupid. there was nothing wrong with my mind – I knew this was ridiculous. but my eyes and my body just weren’t with it. it didn’t feel fun anymore to be buzzed, it felt annoying. I almost followed my friends to get another drink. sure, why not? let’s see what happens with one more. but my friend changed her mind, so I did too.

miranda showed up, along with the rest of the gang. we stood in the middle of the dance floor, where we had all found each other, for a few minutes. then someone suggested dancing, and the whole group moved closer to the stage. miranda motioned to the side of the tent, and I very gladly followed.

the tent was on the riverfront. at the edge of the tent where we stood, there were loose ropes bordering where we could go. just past the ropes was a steep slope covered in rocks. eventually, it went down to the river. I stood there and stared down at the water. I held tightly to a pole, because even though I was concentrating and not moving, I felt like I was moving, and I felt like I was about to fall onto the rocks.

I felt so sad. nothing was funny now. I wanted to cry, and I did tear up a few times. this was all so stupid. I didn’t belong here, and I knew it. I didn’t dance, I didn’t want to go dance. I didn’t like all the sexual dancing going on anyway. it looked stupid to be holding a cigarette and a drink and grinding with someone. I saw girls stumbling, concentrating on their stumbling steps just as I had been doing. the music was so loud that it was hard to hold a conversation with miranda, though we tried. “we don’t belong here,” I told miranda.

it was fun, briefly. during those few minutes when I was a little dizzy and everything was funny – it was fun. but very quickly, I was aware that it was just funny, but I was acting obnoxious and embarrassing myself. and then, too soon after that, I felt like I was crashing. it was terrible. part of me wouldn’t have minded falling onto the rocks. a couple of times I caught myself staring at the rope marking our boundaries, wondering how it would feel wrapped around my neck.

the few minutes of buzz wasn’t worth the crashing feelings afterward. it’s pretty ridiculous. I stood at the edge of a bar scene in tears because I was suddenly so depressed.

it’s not like I never drank before or got a little buzz before, but I’ve never gone to bars or gotten mixed drinks like this. I’ve never gotten that little buzz while in a crowded, dirty, immoral, disgusting place. I can’t tell you how many times over the night I thought the words, “don’t touch me.” it’s not a safe place to be, and I knew that. there is no chance of me meeting the guy that I would marry in a bar. there is no chance of me meeting anyone important and worth getting to know in a bar.

okay, the clock on my computer (louisville time) says 5:12. in evansville time, it’s 4:12, which means that in four hours, my parents will be up and about the house, which usually wakes me up. I’m falling asleep typing, though I wish I could stay awake longer to say more.