Contempt

Let me tell you about the time I went to a goth club.


Last winter, I made a couple attempts to come out of my shell and try doing things that normal people do, like drinking and going to clubs. I'd try a few drinks my roommate would mix for me, and no matter how little alcohol she'd use, I'd still hate it. I don't get it. The alcohol simply burns right through any flavor the drink might have, and it's fucking nasty. Even Bailey's on ice cream was gross. With that in mind, I've never been drunk. I'm too grossed out to drink enough to get plastered.


Later on, a bunch of us went to Contempt. My roommate, her boyfriend, and a few of their friends somehow convinced me to go. It was a freezing cold, windy Saturday night. They were all gothed up with varying levels of makeup, and I dressed as I normally am: button down shirt, khakis, boots, trench coat; all black, of course.


We got there, paid the entrance fee, and descended the stairs to the bar. Further down was the dance floor. Obscenely loud (and some of it was crappy) techno/metal was blasting and reverberating through the entire club. I was introduced to people, and then they flocked to the dance floor. I watched for a few minutes, checking out what the kids call dancing these days.


That's another thing I don't understand. Well, I do understand it, but I don't "get" it. I've never felt the compulsion to dance. Without trying to sound like a snob, I process music intellectually and emotionally. If I tap my feet or fingers, that's as far as it goes physically.


One of the guys in our group wasn't much of a dancer either, and suggested we go upstairs to the viewing booths. There's a bunch of black and white video cameras placed all over the club, and at the top of each of the screens. You can cycle through all the cameras. If you see someone you like, you can pick up the phone, hit a button, and talk to them.


We scrolled through and played around. There were a few cute girls, but they were not in my league. We came across the camera for the booth we were in, and Frank made sure the camera had me in its sights. I IMMEDIATELY became self conscious and turned away.


After a while, we went back down stairs, and watched everyone dance. I stood in a corner, trying to stay out of everyone's way. A couple of people stopped a few feet in front of me to pose for a picture. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't get blinded by the flash. They stopped, looked at the pic on the view screen. I was in the background of it. They then took the pic from a different angle.


Yeah, I already felt unwelcome in the place. Thanks for dehumanizing me, too.


I went back upstairs to sit down and rest. It was late, I didn't care for any of the music, and just feeling more out of place than Britney Spears at a MENSA convention.


My roommate, on a break from dancing, came up to see how I was doing. We chatted with the DJ for a few minutes, and I decided that I should leave.


I walked out, said "good night" to my friends who were smoking outside, and went on my way to the subway station. It was so cold that night, my breath didn't even hang in the air; it dropped and shattered on the concrete.