building, apartment or the asshole that lived in there with me for the last few years ever again. I had to admit I was nervous, a little scared, and quite melancholy as I left the apartment. I did not know what to expect in the big city all by myself and I wondered if I even wanted to get into a relationship with a guy ever again. I guess my feelings were normal for a girl who gave her heart foolishly and I tried not to dwell on it. Unfortunately I could not stop thinking about it.
Marci told me the best thing I could do was to stop thinking about the past and focus on the future. She told me that the moving guy was pretty hot and that we had a fun filled night ahead of us so she was not going to tolerate a “party pooper”. She smiled at me and stopped me dead in my tracks. Holding her hands on both of my shoulders she told me that I had the rest of my life to look forward to. She was not going to let a snake like my ex boyfriend ruin a perfectly good woman and if need be should would have him killed. We both laughed and I told her that it was not that serious. I just hated change and feared the unknown too much. I needed to embrace change and look forward to the future if I was going to move on. Worse than that, I really felt like I needed to get even with the bastard. She told me the best way to get even is not to let him get under my skin and to live my life happily without him or his bullshit. I had to agree with her. After all, what other options did I have? There was no way I was going to stay with him and I had no intention on listening to his lies or pathetic excuses. I was determined to have a good time so we focused on what was coming next on our agenda for the evening.
The line for the club was wrapped around the corner. For a “private” club the word seemed to spread all through the tri-state area pretty quick. People stood for hours waiting to hear the vibe and get a glimpse of the inside. Marci and I were dressed to the nines, wearing short skirts and glittering tank tops. We each wore high heel leather boots that hugged our thighs with matching bags. As we strutted past the multitude of people waiting to get in, all heads turned. I loved the attention. It was just what I needed after finding out I had been cheated on repeatedly. My ego needed a boost and things started off pretty good outside on the sidewalk. I hoped for a great night inside the club as well.
We walked up to the nondescript door. It was a grey painted metal door at the top of three concrete stairs. There was a red light bulb jutting out of the concrete wall at the top left corner of the frame and no sign at all. The stairs were cordoned off with red velvet ropes. Two large bouncers dressed in black suites with white shirts and black ties wore communication headsets behind the rope. One of them held a clip board with a list of names attached to it. I assumed he was the guy to speak with. The many people standing in line separated from the door by the bouncers and the theater ropes were steaming as we walked right past them and spoke to the bouncer. He quickly found my name which indicated me and a guest were invited, unhooked the thick red velvet rope from the stand and let us in. The other bouncer opened the heavy, grey metal door for us. They let us pass like movie stars.
A heavy rhythmic beat of the base permeated the concrete walls of the dark, candle lit, hallway we traversed to get to the lobby. Trance, house and hip-hop sounds were molded together brilliantly by our black disk jockey friend Kevin. The vibe he created in the club was magical. Smoke machines poured out wafting puffs of thick white vapor that flickered and changed color with the many stage lights that peppered the club’s high ceilings.
We had several drinks before we approached the DJ booth to say hello to Kevin. He was ecstatic to see us and asked his protégé to
Marci told me the best thing I could do was to stop thinking about the past and focus on the future. She told me that the moving guy was pretty hot and that we had a fun filled night ahead of us so she was not going to tolerate a “party pooper”. She smiled at me and stopped me dead in my tracks. Holding her hands on both of my shoulders she told me that I had the rest of my life to look forward to. She was not going to let a snake like my ex boyfriend ruin a perfectly good woman and if need be should would have him killed. We both laughed and I told her that it was not that serious. I just hated change and feared the unknown too much. I needed to embrace change and look forward to the future if I was going to move on. Worse than that, I really felt like I needed to get even with the bastard. She told me the best way to get even is not to let him get under my skin and to live my life happily without him or his bullshit. I had to agree with her. After all, what other options did I have? There was no way I was going to stay with him and I had no intention on listening to his lies or pathetic excuses. I was determined to have a good time so we focused on what was coming next on our agenda for the evening.
The line for the club was wrapped around the corner. For a “private” club the word seemed to spread all through the tri-state area pretty quick. People stood for hours waiting to hear the vibe and get a glimpse of the inside. Marci and I were dressed to the nines, wearing short skirts and glittering tank tops. We each wore high heel leather boots that hugged our thighs with matching bags. As we strutted past the multitude of people waiting to get in, all heads turned. I loved the attention. It was just what I needed after finding out I had been cheated on repeatedly. My ego needed a boost and things started off pretty good outside on the sidewalk. I hoped for a great night inside the club as well.
We walked up to the nondescript door. It was a grey painted metal door at the top of three concrete stairs. There was a red light bulb jutting out of the concrete wall at the top left corner of the frame and no sign at all. The stairs were cordoned off with red velvet ropes. Two large bouncers dressed in black suites with white shirts and black ties wore communication headsets behind the rope. One of them held a clip board with a list of names attached to it. I assumed he was the guy to speak with. The many people standing in line separated from the door by the bouncers and the theater ropes were steaming as we walked right past them and spoke to the bouncer. He quickly found my name which indicated me and a guest were invited, unhooked the thick red velvet rope from the stand and let us in. The other bouncer opened the heavy, grey metal door for us. They let us pass like movie stars.
A heavy rhythmic beat of the base permeated the concrete walls of the dark, candle lit, hallway we traversed to get to the lobby. Trance, house and hip-hop sounds were molded together brilliantly by our black disk jockey friend Kevin. The vibe he created in the club was magical. Smoke machines poured out wafting puffs of thick white vapor that flickered and changed color with the many stage lights that peppered the club’s high ceilings.
We had several drinks before we approached the DJ booth to say hello to Kevin. He was ecstatic to see us and asked his protégé to
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