Monday, November 15, 2010

Growing Up and Moving On

Friday night started like any other payday for me. I went to a company meeting and met with some of my coworkers. I observed that one of them was pregnant. I half jokingly told her to get drugs and a lot of them during her labor.  After the meeting, I went to Daisy's house and urged her to come with me to hang for the evening.

Since the move, I was exhausted and needed a night out. All I'd wanted was the chance to go out and get a drink with the homies. My old crush, Kelsy Davis, posted on his Facebook page that he was doing a free show at a spot called the Chocolate Bar so Daisy and I decided to stop in there first.

I warned Daisy in advance that she'd be Kelsy's type. During one of our hangout sessions he'd told me that he has a thing for women with small waists and big butts, which happens to be Daisy to a tee. We got there and after we saw him, he told us that he'd already performed. I headed straight to the bar then back to him. He asked us to come hang with him and a few friends. As we walked out, he held the door open and stared at her ass as he walked out. I told her that if she wanted to kick it with him, I'd have no problems with it.

As we hung with the musicians and painters drinking, we had guys admiring us and asking us questions. By that point I was buzzed and enjoying the attention. I'm kind of over Kelsy and he and I are friends now, but I had an okay time flirting with his friends as he eyeballed mine.

After we got tired of the guys, we decided to hit up the old standby MJQ Concourse. We got in there and did  the regular. We made rounds and said hey to Sky and Murph, we danced in the lounge (or tried, to the dj was horrible), and we eventually separated to our separate corners. While I walked around I ran into an old friend of mine. We'd fallen out over something stupid and we didn't really reconnect until I'd sent her a Facebook invite  while ago. I'd heard through the grapevine that she'd gotten married and had a child, but I was surprised at how much she'd really changed.

My friend, who I'll call Karen, used to be the baddest bitch in the city. She used to have locs down her back and a bangin body. I've actually heard some of my guy friends comment about how much they wanted to bed her. She knew the doorman at every major club in the city. She'd had a fascinating life and men were drawn to her like flies to honey. Men sponsored her to the point that I'd once watched her say to a random guy that she wanted him to buy her lunch and he did. We were working at a record store and she asked a random customer to buy her lunch and he actually got it for her. She thanked him but I don't even think she introduced herself or told the dude her name. She was once in a point to put Trina, Nicki Minage, and Ciara to shame. She was the pied piper of men. They followed her stupidly and she arrogantly relished her power.

But seeing her in the club was different. She'd gained about 20 lbs. and her long locs were replaced with hair that had been permed or straightened and was in some kind of curly, nondescript mop on her head. My friend, who used to wear short skirts, tight dresses, skin tight jeans, and tube tops, was now wearing an outfit that covered her from top to bottom. She no longer commanded the room the way she once did. She seemed bored as she dragged behind the girlfriend she came with.

I used to be the friend that tailed behind Karen. I was the little chubby nerd and Karen is the woman that fully introduced me to the underground Atlanta music scene. After she and I fell out, I managed to flourish on my own and meet my own connects. Now here she was, in our old stomping ground, looking like a mom. Not a milf, but a mom. Truthfully, that night, for the first time since I've known her, I think I could have pulled more men that night than she did.

About an hour into our time at the club, I too became, well, bored. The club was hella smokey. The dudes in there were so wack. The music was the same shit I'd been listening to in clubs since I'd started going 10 years ago. My buzz had died. I missed Pookie and Pumpkin. I wished that I'd stayed home and curled up with them instead. I wanted to go home. We'd originally planned to stay at the club until it closed at 3, but I found Daisy and asked if she wanted to leave early.

I realized that I'd really grown out of it all. I felt too damned old to be there. People were drunk and stupid. The cigarettes were killing me. I ran into some asshole that wasn't paying attention to his cancer stick and i got ash all over my brand new, favorite sweater. I was sleepy. My head hurt. I'd been up since that morning with an appointment for my son and I wanted nothing more to go home and sleep in my own bed.

On the way out of the club, I'd run into the same pregnant coworker. She said that her husband worked in the club as she introduced him. I sleepily looked at him and announced that I was getting too old for the club. He scolded me and said that there was no such thing as being too old to hang out all night. She sat back, 5 months pregnant, and said she'd agreed with him.

All I could think to myself was how once the baby arrived, she'd see things differently. She'd be up all day chasing down a child, taking care of home, and working, and the last damned thing she'd do would be to go to a club. I knew that she'd eventually tire of him working in a club and ask him to get a job that works with her schedule. I didn't bother to bust her bubble. I just smiled as they both got on me for saying that was outgrowing the club. It's okay though. I went home to my family.

Fun has taken on a brand new meaning. And that's all right with me.

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