The clubbing did not go as expected.
We had come to this particular club a few times before, and, while I generally find these sorts of places to be too loud, and I don’t drink enough for the drinks to make up for it, I was down for hanging out with people in various states of costumage. So the three of us were hanging out and kind of observing, chatted with a few Irish boys, then, once Ann and Lily arrived, went ahead and went on the dance floor for a while.
Club dancing is just…strange. There are no steps and no technique. True dancing has technique, which normally manifests itself in style and step–everything from ballet to hip hop to blues to break dancing. It’s all style and steps. Club dancing is…is…awkward. The only successful club dancers are the ones that are, well, actual dancers. And there’s no room in clubs for proper dancing.
Again, while annoying, this would have been less of a problem if their hadn’t been people drinking around, because when men start to drink, they don’t tend to cry or get sleepy and awkward cuddle, and some men tend to act like they’re Superman and Trump all rolled into one, and not the best parts of either. In this case, Lily became their target.
By the time we were able to get them away from her (or, more accurately, her away from them) and retrieve her glasses, we were all done. Lily was nearly having a panic attack, Ann was fuming, Cait was half fuming and half crying on Lily’s behalf, Sam and MK were trying to keep things collected and calm, and I was seriously concerned that someone might follow us out of the club. I think that, if there were less than six of us, it might have been more of a factor, but at such moments, you feel quite small and powerless indeed.
The end result was that our evening out was over. No one particularly wanted to try to “party” again, so we chose to head home, get cleaned up, and settled in. MK had chosen to stay the night, so we grabbed pillows and blankets and began watching Princess Jellyfish and Buffy. And that should have been the end of our evening, but Newbie showed up and knocked on my door.
She had, like a ditz, walked into a club, put her phone and wallet down, then went out on the dance floor, and surprise surprise, her wallet and phone weren’t there when she went back for them…and she was drunk, crying and didn’t know what to do. My phone at this point was dead, and I knew we needed to get things rolling as quickly as possible, so I went in to wake Cait (I wasn’t going to let Newbie do it, because a) drunk and b) annoying, and Cait doesn’t do well with either when she’s just been woken up) and borrow her phone. I let Newbie talk me into reporting the loss for her, creating a strange three way conversation where she leaned on Boy Toy and talked to me and I talked to the Garda and then did the reverse when necessary.
When we finished, she gave me a sloppy hug and told me she was going to go to sleep.
“No, you’re not,” I reminded her. “You need to call and put a stop on all of your credit and debit cards.”
“But I’m tired and I just want to sleep. Besides, they’re all US companies.”
“Then call your mom and ask her to.”
“But it’s the middle of the night!”
“It’s 2 here. It’s 7pm there. Call her.”
“…I’m not doing this for you. Message her at least, right now. If you don’t, it’s your problem. I don’t want to deal with this anymore, and you know what you need to do.”
“I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Babe, you should probably do what she says and let someone know.” Boy Toy. Finally being useful.
I don’t know if she did it or not. I’m guessing she’ll not make it down to the police station to finish the report, because she didn’t do it on the first, and now it’ll be too much work. At that point, I gave up with saving people. I returned Cait’s phone, thanked her, and went back to binge watching Buffy with MK.