Memories of a dance floor

Since nothing really interesting is happening these days, after all, it's the point where the semester comes to an end, everyone is busy studying, working on papers or, like me, procrastinating.

So let me tell you about something that happened last semester. Might have been the mid-term party (or some other excuse to make a party). I have to say that, before going to college, I wasn't exactly the crazy party boy you think I might have been (it's the hair, I know), so I was still new at this. All I knew is I could have fun, and I could dance. Dance like I had never danced before.

Unlike my first college party, this club was going to play alternative rock music. Awesome. Also, since that kind of club doesn't want a male-exclusive population (who wants that...? Seriously), drinks were free for the ladies until 11:30 and the admission was free for college students. I also decided to bring a friend of mine (free drinks surely convinced her).

So as I was getting ready to go, I suddenly remembered I had just bought these awesome green Converse shoes. Yeah, I was going for the rocker look. After carefully lacing my Converse, putting on my AC/DC t-shirt, I was on my way to party.

After a few minutes of where-the-hell-is-this-club, we finally saw some familiar faces. As we came closer, the gang's Converse specialist immediately recognized what kind of shoe I was wearing. After some shoe-talk, we got in the club. At first, things are a bit uncomfortable, you ask for a beer, sit down since nobody is dancing and engage a quick conversation (which is actually hard to do since the music is already so loud). Most of the girls were at the bar, absorbing as much alcohol as they could before 11:30. At some point, some other people noticed my new shoes, and for some of them, having clean Converse just wasn't right. That's when I got attacked by two of them. Their mission was to get my shoes to look dirty...and I must say they did a good job. They rubbed the bottom of their shoes on the top of mine, the white part. I now had the perfect look of a rocker, at least shoe-wise.

After a few beers, still nobody was dancing. Suddenly, the dj decided to play some AC/DC. Being the AC/DC fan I am (who other than me would dress as Angus Young for Halloween?), I basically duck-walked to the dance floor. Of course, everybody followed and the dance floor wasn't empty anymore. From this point, music got a lot better, classic after classic, we were starting to show off our best moves, such as "put-your-hands-on-your-knees-and-cross-your-arms- so-that-your-hands-go-from-one-knee-to-the-other". Of course, some of us were feeling more willing than others, and that's how four of us, including me, climbed on the stage and started dancing so that everybody could see us. The choreography was pretty awesome, and since the beer we had must have been diluted, we had good timing and coordination. We even did the "put-your-hands-on-your-knees-and-cross-your-arms-so-that-your-hands-go-from-one-knee-to-the-other" dance.

After the club closed, some of us suggested we'd go to the 24/7 Bagels shop next to the club: St-Viateur Bagel. I have to say, those are some fine bagels, the best in town. The bagels are only 50 cents too. One of us decided to buy some cream cheese to go with it, so we all shared a well deserved snack, at 3:30am.

I slept at a friend's house that night, I dreamed of shoes, dancing and bagels.