We messaged back and forth a couple of times. I explained that I truly thought we were 1:1'ing and apologized for intruding into his space. He said it was okay, but next time to wait until being asked before connecting.
I'm feeling a little better now, but you know how you feel like an idiot when you wave at someone and they don't see you. For a good while, I had that feeling about ten times over.
January 11, 1996
I've been thinking about what happened yesterday and I've decided that I need a CU-SeeMe break. My mind has completely left me: I think Stuart from Threesome said it best as, "The little head thinking for the big head."
In a few minutes I should be leaving for Manray with Rob. I can't decide whether I should use my fake ID or not. If I use it, I'll pay $2 less to get in and I can have a drink if I want, but I risk getting caught. Hmmm.
Oh well, I think I will use it. If I get caught, I'll just tell myself that I'm sure 10 other probably got caught tonight, too. I mean, it's not like cheating on a math test or anything. No curve will be thrown. No one will be hurt. (Uh, oh, I'm rationalizing (and rambling))
3:28AM Technically January 12, 1996
Rob arrived at my apartment a little before 11PM and we headed towards the T. While we were waiting at the station, I spent most of my time trying to decide which ID to use. The T arrived and we headed towards Central Square with me still rationalizing my using each ID.
Rob and I got off the subway and went up the escalator... and then we were lost. I'd looked on the map before leaving to see that Manray was on Brookline St., but failed to note where that was in relation to the T stop.
So we started walking, and walking, and freezing, and backtracking. For twenty minutes we walked pretty much without any direction, and then, miraculously, we heard music and found the club.
As we neared the door, I made the last minute decision to use my fake ID.
A few seconds passed as I squirmed, waiting for the bouncer to quiz me, or say "Stamp." Luckily, he did the latter. I made it! Two for two.
I couldn't help but smile as we walked inside, and as I was paying the cashier, my smile became even larger. Before I'd been inside ten seconds, a guy was totally checking me out. 30 seconds and I was already having fun.
Rob and I walked through the mass of people for a minute then decided to check our coats. As we were waiting in line, a guy who I thought was really cute and who was definitely short was standing behind us. (It was too dark to actually tell for certain whether he was cute.) He was looking at me, but until we could get into better lighting, I didn't want to make my staring aparent.
After Rob checked his coat, we headed upstairs, figuring that there were plenty of guys around and if the guy behind us was indeed cute, I'd have time to dance with him later.
And so, Rob and I walked around, checking the sites, making a little eye contact, staying together part of the time, separating at others. The cute guys that I thought I noticed on the way to the coat check had somehow disappeared. I mean, there were still cute, short guys there, but none that I remembered from the few minutes beforehand.
Once I'd made a tour of the club a couple times, I thought I should get a beer since I'd gone through all the trouble of using the ID, but not really knowing the names of any brands, I had to find some empty bottles before heading to the bar. --That was not a problem.
I looked through the labels a couple of times then decided a Budweiser would be the safest bet: How could I screw up ordering one of those?
I walked to the bar and said, "A Budweiser."
The bartender said, "Huh?" and I repeated myself, wondering if he couldn't hear me of if I should have said "A Bud" instead. Nevertheless, I got the beer and went back to my scoping.
But before I could dance with anyone, I noticed people getting their coats and leaving. The puritan laws of Massachusetts had crashed this party: Manray was closing at 1AM and it was almost 12:50AM.
I found Rob and told him we only had a few minutes left, and that if he was going to put a dollar in the go-go boy's G-string, he better do it now. That was all the encouragement he needed. He danced up next to the platform and stuck a dollar down the front.
And then we got our coats, complained about how we'd only been there an hour, and caught a cab. The night was short, but fun. Definitely worth doing again soon.
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© 1996 Justin Clouse