Danger Zone

Current mood: drunk

What a rollercoaster of a night.

As predicted in the last entry, I did manage to get my haircut. I was a tad late, embarrassed myself by insulting an old woman (who I didn't realize was the owners mother), and sprung off to Rite Aid to spend 88.18 on various heigenic supplies. And, as mentioned in the last entry, I managed to get my butt down to the local benefit at one of the local firehall/clubs to have a good time. A good time was had by all, and there was close to $600 raised for the family whom the dance was to benefit. Take that in with the fact that not a whole lot of people showed up, AND the fact that this town only has about 6,000 people in it and you have some pretty impressive statistics.

My aunt Leslie came down, my best friend was basically in charge of all the money and door prizes. My best friend's parents came, and a lot of other people (including my boss) showed for the dance itself. Within due time I had downed around 4 captain and cokes, and a long island ice tea. I burned calories by dancing without relent on the tiny dancefloor, accented by the head of a mighty indian chief. The music was jammed out by one of the local police officers/DJs.

As always is the case, I spent a lot of time dancing alone -- and on occassion a stranger would hope on to dance with me. Eventually everyone was buzzing enough to get their groove thing on, and before I knew it I was dancing in a sea of people I barely knew. Some knew me from previous dances, others were just casual aquaintences that knew me from Sheetz, but ALL had a great time.

As the night waned, the "crowd" - if you would call it as much - dispersed into the unknown, leaving only a handfull of crazies (including myself) to continue getting their "groove thing" on to the music.

Wendy found someone pretty cool to hang with. And most of my dance partners had either gone, or found their "true loves" to wrap up the occassion with. Meanwhile, I danced alone, grinding to imaginary Heath Ledgers alongside the outer-rim of the dancefloor.
Suddenly - a smack in the arm.

I turned to see what had hit me only to find a total stranger and his wife dancing with one another. He had turned and smacked me with his hat, following up with a derogotory "fag" comment.

Now, the thing here is that I wasn't bothering anyone. I was dancing alone, minding my own business, and waiting for some other stranger to hop in and dance with me. There was nothing said, or done to evoke such madness. For the most part alone (most of my contacts, except Wendy, had left the firehall), I had no answers or retort for the man - who appeared to be in his early to mid fifeties.

In short time the song ended, and I decided that I was going to retire before I wound up getting jumped in the parking lot, or worse. When a relatively unpopular song came on, everyone retired to their seats, and I flipped open my phone to figure out just who was driving me home that evening. (Wendy's dad was allegedly the volunteer. Her mom had texted me earlier, and I was double checking to make sure she hadn't texted me during my dance fever.)

At that point, I was very drunk. The fifety-some year old man was at the table behind me with his white haired wife, and made some ignorant comment about me.

"Oh look...he's calling his boyfriend." he jested.
Again, I kept my mouth shut, shifting to the other side of the hall to avoid trouble. I opted not to tell anyone at that time because I feared one of my drunken friends would let their beer muscles do the talking, and get us both in a whole heap of trouble.

So, Nicki and I went outside. There was a wreck on Washington avenue, and most of the fire crew had dissipated into the night. Wendy overheard me telling some of the others of what had happened in the club, and needless to say she was livid. Thank GOD I kept it to myself.
In any scenario, the guy that ended up being Wendy's date drove us home. They, and Wendy's parents are currently in the living room watching Jackass 2. I however, can simply not rest without a little venting.

I will probably never be back to Hookies firehall again. I'm sure some are probably glad for that, but I have my fair share of friends who are members, and it sucks that a single person can ruin a good time for me completely.

I need to stick to my own element. For when on the dance floor, mister Mikey is a danger to himself - particularly when in the company of redneck, closeminded assholes like the one I met tonight.
Whatever. I know who cares about me, and that's all that matters. I'm not going to let some scumbag dirty ass mother fucker bother me. I just know better for next time.

In any case...it's time for a rest. I'm who I am...take it or fucking leave it!

Peace'n'Love to all.