Liz Erk (lizerk) wrote,
Liz Erk
lizerk

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No, I didn't bring a bag...

Last night was one of those nights where if I closed my eyes for too long, I might have thought it was 1996.

But let me back up.

Met up with popkultur, rosewhite115, vulgarlad, fairymelusine, Laura and Monique for sushi at 8:00. It was especially fun because I'd never met a few of them in person before, but because of LJ and the gym, I felt like I'd actually known them all of my life... (**Insert "It's a Small World" here**)

Anyway, dinner was yummy and good fun. I think I spent 85% of it just laughing. Yay for non-awkward first meetings!

I had intended to go home after that so I could get sleep before having to meet up with my client from PA the next day, but alas, after dinner I couldn't resist going with everyone to a tragedy of a lesbian club night in downtown Boston called Club Hollywood. I don't know what was more horrifying... the sorry collection of awkward dykes or the fact that the DJ calls herself "DJ Mix Mistress." I really think she should be called "DJ Mix Distress" because her DJ'ing skills are void of any mixing.

*sigh*

This woman's been around since '96... her girlfriend at the time was a DJ at a place in Cambridge called Ryles, which was the very first lesbian club I'd ever been to. Mix Distress was not a DJ at the time, she was the one who appeared to be having convulsions in front of the DJ table. She'd wear a tube top for a skirt and flail her arms and kick really high.

In the two years that I went there (It lasted 2 years!!!! Must be a record because as I would come to learn in later years, lesbian clubs have a shelf-life of 9 to 12 months) my friends and I NEVER learned the DJ's name. So, since we NEVER saw her without a cigarette hanging out of the side of her mouth, we dubbed her DJ LungCancer and her side-kick The Tube-Top Dancer.

Since I'd grown accustomed to the styles of DJs at clubs like Avalon and Axis, which mainly catered to a straight crowd, I was SHOCKED to find that lesbian DJs are allowed to get away with train-wrecking every single song. I mean, it was just jaw-dropping that they could get away with playing Prince's "Raspberry Berret" and then crashing the end right into the beginning of some psycho-tempo'd salsa number.

Ack.

So, fast forward to last night and I SWEAR, if I closed my eyes, I was right back at Ryles. Why not? The songs were still the same as in 1996, give or take a few new ones here and there. And they were all "mixed" in the same fashion. So it was VERY amusing to see that Mix Distress spins in the EXACT same disastardly fashion as her ex, DJ LungCancer AND still convulses the exact same way while playing brutally awful music.

Every so often rosewhite115 and I would go out and dance to a random song that seemed okay enough. Though I was thoroughly embarrassed because she insisted that if she could teach engineering boys to dance to Latino music, then she could teach me. But what she didn't realize is that I have dated two full-blooded Latino women and they had no success at all.

"Come on, it's 3 steps... it's easy!"

"No," I protested. "I swear, you don't understand. I'm unteachable. I can only do my own thing, I really can't do anything that requires me to follow someone else."

"If I can teach engineering boys, then I can teach you!" rosewhite115 promptly jumped up, took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

*sigh*

Within 30 seconds I think she realized she was truly dealing with a sorry, lost cause. What I thought was cute was that she said that if I'm an athlete, I should be able to learn to dance.

Ah! But my athleticism has always been straight forward... biking, running, rowing, lifting. Everything that's always uniform with little varying movement.

We had fun anyway... rosewhite115 is very cute and fun to dance with. And I thorougly amused myself by crooning the words to that wretched TaTu song at her while dancing at one point. (No, Mix Distress did NOT play the dance version)

I've also decided I'm in love with popkultur because we were constantly laughing. My absolute favorite moment was when we were making fun of some song and while laughing he said, "Oh, it's not your bag, is it?"

I looked down, trying to see which bag he thought he might be sitting on and said, "No, I didn't bring a bag."

He burst out laughing and said, "No, I meant as in 'not your bag,' as in style..."

I nearly choked from laughing so hard. Hee haw, go sad little white girl.

What a night. As bad as the club was, it helped to be in the company of some awesome people. I got home at 2:00 and fully expected to wake-up at 8:00 a.m. so I could join Laura and Monique for "Spin / Yoga" at 9:00, but I hit the snooze button and didn't regain consciousness until 10:30.

Whoops. Oh well, there's always next week, right??
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