Sunday, August 1, 2010

The longest night of my life

Good evening ladies and gentlemen!

I have a confession to make: although I don't go out that much in the US, I am actually a party animal. And Friday night, I came flying out of the closet.

My friend's host sisters invited us to go out with them to a dance club. The type, cover charge and location of the club were all lost in translation, so basically we blindly jumped in the car and hoped for the best.

Answers to the aforementioned questions:

Location: Still unknown to me. The club had no sign with its title and we drove on a road with which I was unfamiliar for some time. I think we were still in Santiago but we could have crossed the border to Argentina, it's still unclear.

Cover charge: $10, a bit pricey but it was also a sophisticated 25 and up club. Like before, nobody was carded.

Type of club: I am still unsure. When we entered there was a fancy-schmancy bar with fancy-schmancy expensive drinks over looking a dance floor. Hanging above the dance floor and twinkling with reflections from the lights were ten (yes, literally 10!) disco balls of different sizes and colors. I figured we were in a 70's themed venue yet as time went on the vibe began to change. The smell of pot flooded the dance floor, the sweet sounds of Bob Marley rang from the speakers and it seemed everybody IN THE WORLD with dreadlocks was in attendance; all signs point to reggae, which is apparently a very popular genre here in Chile, who knew?

At about 1:30am a live band began to play and, to continue with rastafarian theme, the lead singer tore off his Elmer Fud-like hat and revealed dreads the length of his entire body. Everyone cheered, inhaled and a short man in front of me wearing a newsboy cap and, I kid you not, the very same Macalester sweatshirt that hangs in my bedroom, began to jump excitedly, an activity which would continue for the next hour.

While I'm not a huge fan of reggae, I have to admit the concert was good, the energy was high and I couldn't help but groove. After the band played there last number, a DJ started up with some music more appropriate to the presence of discoballs. The 70's hit kept coming for about an hour, including stayin' alive and I couldn't resist pulling out my disco finger. Try not to be ashamed.

At around 3:00am I was feeling a bit sleepy. Just as my friend and I were talking about calling a cab, suddenly Lady Gaga came blasting from the speakers. One more song we agreed and then we'll peace.

This exact scenario occurred seven more times yet Black Eyed Peas, Beyonce and whoever sings Apple Bottom Jeans begged us to stay and we complied. I got my second wind and we proceeded to dance like nobody was watching. Yet, I got a little to into my groove, and after the course of multiple hip thrusts, it became clear that somebody was watching. I was approached and not asked but demanded to share a dance with my new friend, Roberto. Let us recall that I am underaged for this club; this man was well over 30 years old and the dimmed lights did not hide the beginnings of grey patches at his temples. After a few songs, it became clear to him that I was not interested in anything more than a dance and he graciously left on his own.

Yet the delightful music continued and before we knew it, the lights were turned on and the club was closing. It was 4:45AM. As we left, the adrenaline wore off and it was clear my body was exhausted yet my brain emitted the emotions of surprise and pride that I had successfully stayed out all night!

Yet, to my surprise, the night didn't end there. We hopped in the car and 5 minutes later pulled off the road into the parking lot of McDonalds. McDonalds. Food that I do not consume period, let alone at 5:00 in the morning. But we weren't the only ones, the place was absolutely packed with clubbers, ordering hamburgers with palta (avocado), kiwi infused soft serve ice cream and Coca-cola Light (Chilean version of Diet Coke). As my friend's host sister and her friends sat happily munching away at their greasy goodness, I tried not to fall asleep amidst my half eaten french fries.

Finally, at 6:30AM, I was dropped off in front of my home. Believe me, the first thing I wanted to do was write a time punched blog post to prove to you all that I actually survived an entire night out. However, my bed is between the door and the computer and the tantalizing thought of sleep won out. So, I guess you'll just have to believe me, but really, who could think up the combination of dreadlocks and discoballs?

Shout-out goes to Sean Harrold; there were some great techno mixes in the 4 o'clock hour which you would have loved. Perhaps when I return to the states we can repeat this night American style? Or maybe one day you'll be the sweet DJ with the perfect mix of music which prevents people from leaving until close?

Un besito,


1 comment:

  1. WOW! I'm so proud of you! Is that wrong for tu viejo tia to say?! Your stories are bringing back some crazy memories from nights long ago!!