When she was younger and clubbing was something she took for granted she'd not given it much thought. You expected the gut-shaking, floor-trembling, but still so crystal-clear sounds of a nightclub to do better service to the tracks you'd downloaded off the internet than your stereo system at home. Whatever the manufacturers of sound cards and speakers claimed, nothing could compare with the real deal: especially at the hundred decibel mark. There was also nothing that any amount of technology could do to match the buzz of an E or two, enhanced by a line of sulphate, a sniff of coke and the distant memory of a preparatory spliff. Who needed a fucking bar anyway?Not so long ago this would have been a normal Friday night and Saturday morning. However, the dance floor would have had more bounce, the music wouldn't have suffered from the echo that came from hosting the event in a venue that had never been designed for its acoustic properties, and the booth where the DJ sat wouldn't have. Looking back at the band for a bit, I enjoy the music and start to sway, losing my inhibitions and self-conscious manner in the beautiful music floating through the steamy tropical air. This truly is an assault on my senses, and I intend to enjoy every moment of it. ‘What, no drink waiting for me?’ I hear from behind me. Thinking it must be someone else being chided, I return to looking for you, only to find you standing in front of me, wearing a light floral sundress. I stand there, mouth agape, for what must seem an age until you break me out of my reverie. ‘No hug, either. I’m starting to wonder about you!’ you scold me, trying to hide the smile on your face. Completely thrown off balance, I start to fluster a bit and then reach out and hug you close to me, noticing the musicians are laughing at my plight. Sheepishly, I grab your bag and motion you to proceed me. I smirk at the band’s leader and he gives me a wink while laughing at my antics. Once we’re safely away from the band.
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