Sunday, 18 April 2010

Going Out

I am not at all dissatisfied with my evening. I packed a small purse and ran to the main road in a short tight skirt listening to the Kinks. I sat on the bus past my stop. It got later than £5 and I didn't think it through but all of a sudden I was scanning The Book Club queue for friends. Old friends half friends, non friends new friends. I made crucial mistakes early on which meant I didn't get to dance to the Correspondents alone in some sort of euphoria, but instead ended up in a pub with a bad dance floor, via McDonald's. Apple pie secret.

I have the same feeling tonight that I had of Going Out as a teenager. A confusion for what the whole experience was actually about. Why are we painting our faces and putting on short shapes, stomping town and buying drinks, getting tired, getting takeout, getting taxis. All I know is I wanted an adventure, the scariest thing. Once my dancing plan hit the floor I didn't really have a new pull. But I liked not feeling panicked by drifting, somehow taking hold of chance by actively not committing to a single thing. It's quite exciting to make these decisions.

What was my exercise here? I found out about this gig at 8pm, and despite having other plans (that I wasn't actually hot for anyway) I decided to go looking for a night out, and try for the first time to not let not having a comrade stop me. I'm single and I can do anything, anything, by myself. Well I stood in that queue, and it wasn't that I couldn't do it, but all of a sudden, was this actually what I wanted? After three failed attempts at warmth from strangers, I found that people aren't too open to new faces in London. I imagined some American outcome, where I am accepted and embraced for my individuality and spontaneity, lauded for my bare face.

I had a super fun, unconventional night. I don't know if I will try and Go Out by myself again, but I have learnt a few tips at least. I will eye up the queue from across the road rather than stomping straight down it clumsily. I will practice tactical conversations as hooks, not let error be an option. I wasn't prepared tonight, had a mere eight pounds on me, and it was unfamiliar territory. There is no reason for a girl to not go dancing alone. If I am alone, and no-one notices me, then it's almost like I am entirely free, as thought I don't even exist. And if someone does notice me, it will provoke intrigue, and that can only be a positive thing. I will definitely try it again. Though next time I won't tell anybody about it.

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