“If, it’s a temporary lull
Why am I bored right out of my skull?”

The Replacements made some damn fine music and that is a verse I used often. Kind of a coolness test, to see if girls I would meet got it or not. I was bored right out of my skull so I asked the question and got the blank stares I knew I would.

I wouldn’t have left the last place, but some of my buddies were happy to be talking to girls so we took a taxi and followed them to whatever lame place this was and I tried to make the best of it. Finally they decided to head back to the street we should have never left and the fun was about to start. It was a struggle, but we convinced the cabbie that we all could fit and it wasn’t dangerous and we all piled in and drove off to Crescent St. It was freezing, below freezing to be exact.

We arrived at Thursday’s Le Club and walked down the stairs to an expectedly large crowd waiting to get in and I was in no mood to wait. We were probably 25 feet, make that 7 or 8 meters, from that velvet rope we needed to get past. As others wondered if we should wait and the throng in front of us begged to be let in, I made eye contact with the man manning the velvet rope and held a $50 CAD over my head. He nodded and told everyone to make way as he unhooked the rope and let us through. I handed over the bill and thanked him.

We grabbed bottles of beer at the bar and made our way to the edge of the dance floor. We took a brief break as we surveyed the scene, drinking our beers and then we danced. I danced the way I always did, slipping and sliding through the crowd, on the lookout for somebody to dance with. The packed floor bobbed and weaved and danced and pranced as the DJ kept the beat going.

After a song or two I found someone to dance with. We checked each other out for a bit and I used my corny casting a fishing rod move, setting the hook and reeling myself towards her. It was the perfect move here in Canada and she smiled and danced towards me as I reeled and then we danced. I started to sweat, it was hot. Elvis Crespo boomed from the speakers.

I casually scanned the crowd, wondering what my buddies were up to and there he was. The hitchhiker we picked up in Burlington. He had stripped down to his red long johns and he was dancing and having a blast. He must be roasting. I knew it was just a temporary lull, it always is.