A Night Out
The night out in any club begins at 11 when the doors first open. First in there is usually the regulars, perpetual partiers who make it their business to be in first so that they can look, or be looked at. The DJ usually starts with a light set, nothing too fancy, just enough to make sure that everyone is comfortable. And they are; they spend their time chatting, getting to know one another.
Between 11:30 and midnight as the regular pubs close the club fills with punters, some who are very, very drunk and the club becomes a hive of shouting wavering throngs. The DJ senses the change in mood and plays music with more of an up-tempo but still no dancing.
Until one person; there is always one, starts to bust a move like a turkey vulture learning to fly. Shaking their limbs with wild abandon they dominate the dance-floor.
This is the catalyst. The rhythmic swaying spreads throughout the whole club like wildfire. The DJ keeps everything going with catchy dance-tunes that sends everyone into a frenzy.
As the night ploughs on; a curious thing happens. People become more in sync as the music gets simpler, more primal. Soon it is only a beat and the crowd sways in ecstasy to it. It’s no longer separate people but a mass, moving together. Incidentally this is the time where people are most likely to hook-up as reason goes out the window and passions run high.
Alas time and licensing laws wait for no man and when the clock approaches half-two in the morning the DJ is forced to switch to a slower set, to drag everyone back to the abyss.
Ending with the national anthem. The lights are turned on and the revellers are forced to abandon their posts and head out into the dark early morning, heading to their own home, maybe someone else’s. The one thought on their minds, how were they now going to top such a wonderful night out.
Written for Trifecta week seventy-four.