In high school, a friend convinced me to go to a Benny Benassi concert with a small group of friends. It was the three guys and my best friend and I. It was my first time going to a club with friends who weren’t dance friends, but just regular friends, and I think it was my first club concert experience, too. Whatever the case, it was an exciting night for me, and for the others.
We had arranged for everyone to sleep at my house that night. It wasn’t ideal, but it was our best option. My best friend and I had to be up early for graduation the next morning (Yes, our own graduation), and the guys had to leave a few hours later, when my mom was heading out to come to our graduation. So, the guys were getting more sleep than we were, but not too much more. (Their graduation wasn’t until the Sunday morning.)
At the concert, we all had a great time. It was my first experience of noticeable public smoking of marijuana, which was oddly neat, finally seeing that world, but in a safe environment, and where it wouldn’t affect me in any way. But the best part of it all was the dancing.
Being trained in something is cool and all, but being able to be free from the training, and just do my own thing is always way fun. It was a blast just dancing around without concern, surrounded by friends. Okay, we did have a concern for space at times, but we were really good at getting people to spread away from us, so we had our space to dance comfortably.
In the later dancing, however, came the unforgettable part: My self-given challenge. You see, my friend Victor had worn a sideways baseball cap, and that apparently was enough for me to devise myself a fun little challenge to get as much off of Victor as possible. The key challenge was to do it without his noticing.
I think the others each found out about my challenge at some point or other – heck, I think the idea partly sprang from their suggesting I try to steal his belt. (We were not being sexual about it at all – it was totally surface level fun… just so we’re clear.) And so, we all knew, and Victor had no idea that anything was up.
After a great time of dancing and cheering and whatnot together, we all were ready to head home. Walking in the parking lot, after exiting the club, not one of us comments on what I am wearing. Victor, however, looking down at himself, practically exclaims suddenly, “Woah! Why does my shirt only have two buttons closed?!”
We all keep our silence as we struggle not to burst with laughter. After what felt like forever, but likely was only a second or three, Victor figures it out. (I think it was a combination of our telling him and his realizing bits on his own.) in addition to my own clothing, I am wearing Victor’s hat and belt. And I was so close on the button-down he was wearing – there were a million buttons on it, and I had all but two undone. I believe I also had his wallet, and possibly his car keys. And he had no idea about any of it.
For whatever reason, I was proud of my accomplishments. Being stealthy took skill, and I was proud to have had it in abundance that night.
Yeah, that was a good time. 🙂