Wrapping Up Blogging My Bucket List
HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL SPARKLERS!! Happy New Year!! Mazel Tov! Carpe Diem! Annnnd now I'm just saying random stuff.
Whilst I was reflecting upon the glorious year of 2012, I came to the conclusion that it was quite grand. It had its ups and downs, like every year, but it’d like to think that there were more ups than downs. On that note, let us return to... the Bucket List!
While New Years Eve was quickly approaching, I came to a startling realization: somehow I had managed to let the thought of the Bucket List escape my mind! HOW DID I LET THIS HAPPEN? And while I knew that there were a couple of items that were completely impossible to do before the year was up, such as going to Chicago and finding the Starkids or singing on a professional stage, there were some that I still could completely scratch off!!
So I frantically called my friends, asking what we were gonna do. After ruling out going to a saloon (HECK NAWW) and a gay bar, we finally settled on a little club that would be playing dubstep/electro-pop music all night. Which brings me to the completion of…
Numero 9: Go to a club.
So at least I’d be ending 2012 with a bang. If only I knew then what I was getting into…
In the effort to arrive fashionably late, we made the ingenious decision to leave at 10 PM. Since it was a 30-minute drive, we figured that we’d get there just when things started getting good. So we left mi casa, blissfully ignorant of the craziness the night had in store for us.
We parked at 10:30 and started walkin’ to da club, so things were going smashingly. But, knowing my track record, I should’ve realized that wouldn't last too long. We had almost made it to the party spot when my friend realized that she forgot her ID in my car. Which was fine, because we were too pumped to let anything get us down. And it ended up being a good thing that she forgot her ID, because upon arrival to my car, I realized that I made a terrible, TERRIBLE MISTAKE.
I LOCKED. MY KEYS. IN MY CAR.
Luckily, my loving parents hauled their butts all the way to the city (I LOVE YOU MOMMY AND DADDY), but waiting around for half an hour kinda killed our buzz.
Still, we thought “HEY, it ain’t no thang! WEZ BE GOING TO DA CLUB!!” And finally, after the car fiasco, we emerged through the (sketchy) doors of the club, dazzlingly triumphant…and then we quickly came down from our happy, party infested Cloud Nine. And we took a look around.
You see, my dearest Sparklers, we weren’t in a club. Oh no. We were in a weird bar/club thing. But it wasn’t the venue itself that was weird. It was the people. And the music. I can’t really describe the crowd there in one cliché because there were so many different people there. Here are some examples:
- Wannabe urban lumberjacks
- Dudes dressed in plaid with gages in their ears
- Girls wearing blue bikinis and furry go-go boots
- Dudes with pirate hats
- A rather large man wearing a bear hat
- Creepy guys who were DEFINITELY over 40
- Semi-normal people
And the dance floor. Because the music was dubstep/electric-pop/DJing whatever, it was very difficult to distinguish a certain type of dance move. People were just doing the full-body heave thing. There was a lot of limb-flailing involved.
Basically, it was very interesting. I didn’t mind much (I found it THOROUGHLY entertaining), but my friends were a bit wary. So we sat in a booth and went over our options. It would have been absolutely pointless to leave right away, considering that it was 11:20. So we decided to tough it out till midnight before ditching the club.
Whilst we were discussing our options, two completely random dudes sat in our booth. But they weren’t your typical dudes. OH NO. They were dudes clad in super tight, speedo-style sequined shorts. AND THAT’S ALL. Under normal circumstances, we would’ve been all over that. But, you see, they were wearing sparkly shorts.
Well, naturally my two friends (who were sitting across from me) immediately pretended to be a lesbian couple...whilst I was sitting on the other side of the booth ALONE. Many thoughts raced through my mind: perhaps I could pretend to be a tranny named Gary! I figured that was my safest excuse.
Despite the fact that my friends were obviously (pretending to be) a lesbian couple, the dudes asked them to dance. They said no and amped up the PDA. Then the spandex-clad strangers turned to me. “Hey, do you wanna dance?” they asked.
I managed to lower my voice an octave and say, “No thanks, man.” I think I did a pretty good frat-boy impersonation. And it must’ve freaked them out, because they booked it out of our booth. Luckily I didn’t have to pull out my alter ego Gary the Tranny any more that night. But I did get sprayed with fake snow (which was oddly damp) and spent most of the night avoiding getting a black eye on the dance floor.
As soon as it was midnight we BOOKED IT OUT OF THERE. Well, not before my lovely friend Manders got nailed in the eye with a glow stick. What a beautiful start to 2013.
Was it an interesting experience? Absolutely. Entertaining? You know it. Do I want to repeat it? HECK NAW.
And that, my beautiful Sparklers, is the end of the Bucket List. Despite the fact that I didn’t complete every item, I can honestly say that I put myself in some pretty weird situations. Maybe a little dangerous, even. But the beautiful part is that I did some things that I’d never usually do. Such as ghosting hot guys. Or TP-ing a house and getting chased down James Bond style. The whole thing was rather beautiful.
Now, my lovelies, in case you were wondering if I shall continue writing, DO NOT FRET. So, until next time my dears,