Ten years ago, my wife and I enjoyed a quiet night at home as the world anxiously awaited the dreaded Millennium Bug.Continue reading
Posts Tagged → getting old
My wife Lisa and I went out with some friends of ours to a posh local dance club in Dallas Friday night. Lisa’s physician friend was able to “get us on the list” and the four of us arrived around 9:30 pm – late for us but the place was still empty – a pert, tanned graveyard of bouncers, bartenders and idling go-go dancers waiting for the real fun to begin.
We milled around for awhile, touring the multi-level dance floors and checking out the pricey VIP rooms, equipped with flat screen TVs, red velour couches and large balconies overlooking Main street in downtown Dallas. I told Lisa we were “living a short story” right then – the atmosphere was so strange and comical, and the four of us were so obviously fish out of water in the loud neon blare of the place.
Around 10:30 people started showing up, and the scene reminded me of a Sadie Hawkins dance in grade school – everyone was in their 20’s or so (except for our group – all of us pushing or having broken past 40), but instead of getting their groove on the crowd stood expectantly around the disco ball brightness of the dance floor, waiting for something to happen. Finally, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Lisa and I walked out onto the dance floor and started grooving.
And that was the tipping point – the entire place took our cue and erupted into hours of vapid, oversexed gyrating. At one point the go-go dancers came out with dollar bills stuffed into their skin-tight dance shorts, the word “S-E-X” spelled out in pink rhinestones on their butts in case we were somehow unable to receive the message being transmitted by the jiggling of their silicone-enhanced curves. I also vaguely remember a scene from the movie “You Got Served” being re-enacted, with a girl and guy performing an aggressive kind of mating ritual / dance-off right before our eyes, surrounded by a howling bunch of hooligans.
My right ear is still ringing from the booming drone of the house music, but knowing that we were able to show those young whippersnappers how to cut a rug made my month.