Tear down the club



After the Halloween costume contest success, I decided to celebrate. This weekend I  went to a new club downtown with my college friend, Meagan. It was a ridiculous experience. The bouncer looked at me with judgmental eyes as if to say, “this isn’t your scene girl.” Luckily, Meagan never got married and she still had her college figure. Lusting eyes followed her long legs as we approached the velvet rope, and we got in easily.

Before that night I hadn’t seen Meagan in over a year. Our lives went separate ways, as tends to happen after college. She went on to get a real job and make good money, travel to beautiful places and never stayed with one guy longer than a year. I was married within six months of graduation.

In college we had been the terrible two, double trouble. We went to every party and could have any guy we wanted (she even dated the second string quarterback). We fought over the same boys and we were always there to hold the others hair back.

Seeing Meagan work the crowd made me squirm with self-consciousness in my uncomfortable dress. I was jealous of her.

But she never left my side, shoving drinks into my hand and pushing me onto the dance floor. So many guys asked her to dance; she didn’t pay for one drink!

After a few, I was a willing participant and we danced for hours. For those precious moments it felt like no time had passed since college. In my first sexual encounter since the divorce, a guy asked me to dance and I said yes. I’m sure I sweated through my dress as we were awkwardly grinding.

The important thing is that I felt alive and young again.

It was such a rush to let loose, I realized how badly I needed to get out. I didn’t get home until 3a.m. and I didn’t even feel tired. I was still in a bass drum and whisky trance.

That was until the next day, when I was reminded by my pounding head, that my college days are behind me. The room spinning, I swore to myself that I would never touch alcohol again (yeah right).

My body was sore from dancing and I had blisters on my feet, but I was happy. I wanted some of that confidence back. I wanted to feel sexy again.

How do these girls do it? They party at night, run 10 miles in the morning and work all day. It seems to me like an impossible feat. I went to the gym one day and spent the next two on the couch.

Before our night at the club, I was resigned to the fact that I’m past my prime and I would never get back that sexy confidence.

I was wrong.

And it showed me that, even after entire years apart, true friends are there to pick you up.



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