In Which I Go Clubbing

Hey, you know what's a good idea? Throwing me on a bus with a load of attractive girls and better-looking-than-me guys, then throwing me into a club with even more of the aforementioned situation.

This sounds like a situation where I would get too drunk and do something stupid, but I didn't. Call it maturity, I guess.

There is a party bus that departs from Rancho San Diego every Thursday at around 10 PM and takes folks downtown to go hang out wherever (I say "wherever" because I have a passing idea of where we went to, but couldn't fully explain where I was to my mom). Tonight's bus featured a lotta jock-types from high school I knew who, contrary to popular stereotypes, are actually pretty great dudes. It was those guys, me and mine, and the ever-dreaded girls.

The girl that mattered to me wasn't on the bus though. And again, before you think of anything cool this might turn into, realize the story will be anti-climactic. You'll have to get used to that.

Remember the Brazilian girl from two nights ago? The night I may or may not have slept in a car? Right, well she was there. She walked past, and I kinda double-taked her, and she did too. We hugged, and I think she might've kinda kissed me on the cheek.

I obviously became flustered as heck. She walked away, and only saw her in passing for the rest of the night. But honestly, the fact that I made a big enough of a likeable impact that she said hi to me several nights later made me feel like the most competent ladies' man on earth, despite the fact that I am very much not.

But that still made the night feel like a victory.

That coupled with hanging out with my best friends, watching one of them try to ride a mechanical bull, and almost being socially capable in large and a crowd I'm very awkward in, made for a pretty darn great night.

I talked to my Mom this morning about the night being interesting from an "anthropological perspective," ensuring that I sounded pretentious enough to indicate that I did not have anywhere near a conventionally good time. I did intend to write about the absurdity of being thrown on a dim crazy bus where bumping and grinding were only interrupted by the occasional speed bump and paying too much for drinks and realizing my new vice isn't blacking out but rather eating food, and observing at a distance the more base qualities of hooking up in dark places and something depressing and what-have-you--

But you know what? I think I'm just going to let it go at being a good night.