Dancing Animals

I didn’t know what I was in for that night. My brother had told me about this DJ he used to listen to in high school and that they’d be playing at a club. I agreed to go, thinking that it would be a fun night out with my brother if not anything else. Oh man…

It started off with having a few drinks with my brother’s buddies. Being several years older than me made them believe they were all-knowing and wise, and so I got a whole lecture of useless advice. “Don’t ever leave your drink unattended.” “Don’t go home with anyone.” I felt like saying, “Is that right?” And any advice that was new to me was stupid. Like “don’t make out with guys who aren’t wearing shirts. They’re probably on drugs.” Thanks brother’s buddies. What ever would I do without you?

At midnight, we finally got to the club. It was crowded and sweaty and wonderful. The raving crowd jumped with the music. Hands were thrust high in the air. There was a guy wearing a bear hat that gave me a high five. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. There were two pretty blonde girls who said they were from North Carolina and spoke with a slight southern accent. Everything was colourful and dark at the same time.

The highlight of my night was when my brother propelled us across the club to stand right in front of the stage. He hoisted me up onto his shoulders and I cheered ecstatically whilst looking over the crowd of dancing animals.

I feel like my words are doing the situation injustice, so here are some pictures.

  IMG_0346   IMG_0359IMG_0360

I returned home, exhausted yet energized, at about 4:30 AM. I took a shower and stumbled into the car. My mum and I drove to the airport to catch a flight to New Brunswick. I’m writing this on a quaint little bench in Charlottetown PEI. I can’t even believe my life.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s