Saturday, June 02, 2012

Turn down the volume

Aaron says I feel self-conscious getting drunk when you're not having anything, but I don't really like to drink when I'm dancing anyway. I'm driving, I say, and Aaron says how about just one cocktail? So I look over at the bartender, and she says a madras? I can't believe she remembers. I take a sip and it's basically pure vodka, usually just the way I like it but tonight I'm not in the mood so I push it over to Aaron and say drink up! Now he's really going to be drunk. What time is it, I say. Almost 12:30, so he finishes the cocktail and we wave goodbye to our best friend – be safe, she says, and I smile, even though I hate it when straight people say that. We get to Babyhead and right when we step inside they’re playing something with all these horns jazzing out over a crumpled metal drawbridge – you know, you step, and everything shakes, and you step again, and honey I'm on the dance floor swinging on the seesaw. But what are all these hetboys doing looking me up and down, violence disguised as lust like I'm the woman they want to rape or something, just because of my tights. Usually I get weird looks, but nothing special, and then four of these guys jump onto the dance floor to try and grind with Aaron and me while people on the side are grinning and rooting them on. I dance more sexually with Aaron and these guys are hooting and grunting right next to us and then this woman steps between them and us, she's right up against him like a wall. Then this guy comes up and starts yelling at them, and soon enough they are maybe 10 or 15 hetboys in the middle of the dance floor about to fight about two fags and Aaron and I are pretending we don't notice, just keep dancing I'm thinking, just listen to those horns and feel the shaking of the floor beneath my feet and then everyone disperses and I don't know whether to feel relieved or worried because I can still sense everyone's staring and I don't want them to know that I care so I get crazy and stay on the dance floor until closing, even when Aaron sits down I'm still moving wildly and when the lights come on I'm dripping with sweat, eyes rolling back with that high I need. Next time I'll wear a dress, I say to Aaron as we’re leaving, even though I'm scared too. Then it's the next day on the green and I feel like I can't breathe, do I have to shut myself off in order to speak? I'm sitting next to Letha who I don't connect with at all, and James who never even says hi, just looks past me like there's something really fascinating going on about two feet to my left. Josh is kind of flirting with me and Jesse comes over and sits on my lap, I assume because he wants Josh but maybe he's just being friendly. I say hi to Yoli because once we had a good conversation about language poetry, but she's too busy to say anything, talking to Pooja about someone who got so high and fucked someone I don't know. Eliana comes over and she's nice enough, but she tries so hard to talk about nothing. Then I'm talking to fags one, two, and three and I'm thinking why do I torture myself? This heat in my body and I leave, say I should pretend I have something to do. Then I'm on Thayer Street and of course I get harassed by the kids who are always in front of Spat’s, and I turn around and wave hi like this is my fan club or something, and two of the girls start shrieking ew, ew, and I keep walking but in my head I'm thinking how depressing it is that the black kids in this white neighborhood are harassing me instead of some racist asshole. Then I get the usual weird looks from everyone else which usually I enjoy but today is different – I'm thinking of smacking the next person who tries to harass me, not a good strategy I know. I mean I know violence doesn't do anything at all, bomb corporate headquarters when no one is inside. But I'm still thinking about last night and how, when I tried to talk about it on the green everyone acted like they were watching TV, turn down the volume.

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