What a fuckin' weird night.

My roommate (RM) decided that she wanted to go to this 18 and up indie dance night at a music venue downtown. I was tired and therefore opted to take a nap before we went, which proved to the be smartest decision I made all night.

We used my GPS to take us to the club, which was a problem, because it thought that we wanted to go to a different road with the same name. It took us seven exits south of where we actually needed to go, and led us through a sketchy crack neighborhood straight into a dead end behind a warehouse. Luckily we were not shot, and luckily I waited until today to put my HRC sticker on my hatchback, a fact RM pointed out with no small amount of relief. She thought the people milling around outside at midnight would have thought processes somewhat like, "Mm, lesbians. Let's kill 'em."

So we went back on the interstate and got off at the exit I had looked up on Google Maps earlier. This time, we were able to somewhat successfully navigate to the club, park, and go inside.

I will preface the rest of this post by mentioning two important things: I gave RM my keys, and left my money and cellphone inside my car. This proved to be the stupidest move I made all night. Also, this was a scenester/indie night, and there were no gay girls to be found. I mean, there were girls dancing together, but I'm pretty sure the actual lesbian population (ALP) was about two. (The other one set off my gaydar like crazy but wasn't my type.) Also I spent a lot of the night wishing my ex were there.

She did make somewhat of an appearance. RM found this cute little boy to dance with, and she appeared to be having a great time as a result of the music and the hard cider she consumed. Then I lost her for about two hours, and totally flipped my shit The DJ came off the stage to ask me if I was okay and bought me a water and called for her to come on the stage (and hugged me, I think to feel my boobs, but I wasn't going to turn down help). I asked the outside bouncer if I could go search the parking lot. Nothing. I checked the women's bathroom twice, wandered around outside, and by 2:45 (15 minutes before the club closed), I was officially freaked out. I thought that she might be getting raped, because she's not really the kind of girl to have sex with someone an hour after meeting them, and I was sure that she would have told me if she were going outside.

So eventually, after turning over a million scenerios in my head about what I could do if I couldn't find RM, I found a nice guy willing to let me use his cellphone, and called my ex, LW. She was the only person whose number I had memorized, and I'd be damned if I called my mother at two in the morning to ask her for a number. I had been holding it together, but when I called her, I flipped out. I woke her up, but she was calm and told me that she would call RM and ask her to go to the front of the club. I hung up and sort of trembled, then LW called me back and assured me that RM was coming and everything was groovy.

RM told me that she had forgotten I didn't have my phone was with me, and the guy turned out to be a skeeze who just wanted to fuck her. She was in the parking lot, and she said that she kept telling him she needed to go back in the club because she left me there by myself. (I agreed.) "I couldn't figure out why you weren't calling me!" she said, looking embarrassed. "And he was a total douchebag."

We got home at four, I made a flowchart about the kind of people we should date, and we went to sleep watching 10 Things I Hate About You.