The Rub

so last night after i drank just enough beer, smoked just enough weed, and ate just enough klonopin with one of my comrades to feel quite enough at ease watching this documentary and drifting into a deep black slumber another friend of mine calls asking if i wanna go to The Rub. The Rub is a party at southpaw in brooklyn. ive been to southpaw a few times. the sound is fair enough. i like the light scheme. its dim and even and you can see their thighs and their smiles and you can see where their hands are going but all with a hint of mystery. like everything is painted a quiet shade of magenta. they play good music he said. there will be a lot of pretty girls he said. its your last night before she comes back he said. it will be your last hurrah he added.
the last hurrah.

i had about $20 to my name. no list. we had abused it too much already. we gotta be pedestrian tonight. pay at the door. ok, so thats $10, and $10 left for one drink. not much of a hurrah. but i go anyway. i figure maybe there will be something there for me. maybe ill see that girl with serpentine curves and her lips painted golden and maybe she will kiss me and it'll be like a hallucination. maybe ill meet a promoter and he'll say -you are the dj we have wanted. here is a contract to sign we want you here twice a month. we'll provide the drugs we'll provide the hips and you just play your music and get paid. or maybe the place will be on fire. maybe ill be inspired. there could be something there for me. something i can stumble away with. something i can steal. something. so i decide at the last minute to go. even though i could just as easily disappear into my cave, i decide to go. i decide to have my last hurrah.

well, heres the scene. get to the club. cant get in without a girl. call the girls inside and they arent answering. typical. so when three cute girls walk up to get in i boldly attach me and my comrad to em. another guy we didnt know was solo as well and linked up with the third gal. so we all get in. the guy i didnt know pays the 3 girls admission. well played playboy, im sure that got you some points you can cash in later on in the evening, when the alcohol has loosened the girls up a bit and the groove is hip heavy and late night sex is lurking on the fringes. i cant afford such gentlemanly gestures so just pay the ten spot and i break through the crowd aimed straight for the bar. -scotch and soda with a lime.

i take a quick scan of the joint. he was right. pretty girls. good music. all that. but no fire. we find an open space and im bobbing my head checking out the girls and the guys and smelling sweat and sex and... i think vomit. i finish my drink fast. bob my head a little more, simultaneously get horny and nausea from the smell, and head back to the bar. the dj is playing all classics. it gets boring quick but there are these two hips in front of me that know how to swing so well so fucking well that im hypnotized. the girls with the hips catch me staring and smile. i smile back and try to look knowing. another drink, i decide. i need another drink. i get a drink ticket from the dj. -scotch and soda with a lime, please.

the bartender takes so long he gives it to me free. larry, the comrade ive been referring to, is off on the dancefloor using the ancient mating technique of humping the air furiously in an attempt to attract the female species. i wish him luck, finish my drink and use the drink ticket i was spared to get the next. when i get back to the wall i was blooming from the hips have disappeared and the dj is playing dancehall.

i swallow the scotch and soda, suck on the lime a little. and start working up to leaving. i troll around the club one more time desperate for inspiration, desperate for a reason to have spent that last twenty. there isnt any i realize. just loud music and pretty girls. so i make my exit. i get home, smoke my last spliff and masturbate thinking of thin chicks with thick curves.

some fuckin hurrah.