ADULTS PARTYING

Nothing feels like “Adulting” like having to make choices with no right answers, only consequences. It seemed like the mature thing to do would be to forfeit the party all together.

The joy I feel when I’m at a party, getting lost in the music, dancing the night away, is still one of my favourite pleasures in life. The problem, as I’ve gotten older, is getting my ass to the club.

This was the case this Sunday. I had bought my ticket months in advance as one does in Amsterdam for fear of it selling out. Not only was it to see one of my all time favourite DJs, what sold me was the time: party started at 3pm and ended promptly at 11pm. Adult party hours.

I heard a saying something to the effect of, if you want God to laugh, tell her your plans. When God found out that I was going out on Sunday, she said, “Ok sure, but guess what? You’re going to be starting a new job the next morning at 9am. Still want to go?”

Nothing feels like “Adulting” like having to make choices with no right answers, only consequences. It seemed like the mature thing to do would be to forfeit the party all together. The last couple of weeks had really thrown me for a loop. The sudden spring weather pulverized my immune system and through my hay fever into overdrive. For the last two weeks I woke up sneezing, eyes puffy or weeping, until my hay fever turned into a cold, possibly the flu (who knows when all the systems seem to mirror each other?). Was it even worth going out if I still felt like shit?

A part of me was thinking, why not just sell the ticket or get a refund? Do you really want to start your first day of training tired, your body aching from hours of dancing? Or worse, totally hung over? What kind of impression will that make to people at your new job?

But there was another part of me that was thinking, hey, you haven’t gone out dancing in months and you were really excited about this party when you bought the ticket. There’s a choice to make here: do you really want to live a life that is solely dictated by work? Or will you prioritize your own joy, your own self care, which actually includes going out dancing from time to time?

It was classic Dutch weather on Sunday which meant grey and cold with strange moments of torrential downpour. I’d already spent most of the morning laying in my apartment in my pyjamas.

Going out, especially clubbing, has been less and less appealing. I’m sure most people would argue that there’s no point in going out if you don’t really feel like it. The problem is, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that I don’t feel like doing much of anything. I toyed with the idea that perhaps I’m depressed but I think the convenience of our modern life is a big part of the problem. When capitalism is couched in the language of self care and technology is designed to suck your attention, rot your brain in a dopamine daze and sedentary, the act of going out feels like an inconvenience, or worse, threatening.

No

No

I wasn’t going to let fear, laziness, numbness, a job, keep me from getting the somatic healing I knew my body desired.

****

And how he wished he got to stay till the end

But this is what it’s like now

Partying like an adult

How lovely to know he was not alone

To run into an acquaintance

(Because the city has become smaller now)

And she, with the same story as him, made him feel like he’d found an ally

“I can’t stay long either. I have to be up at 6am for work tomorrow!”

She introduced him to her party friend and

All three of them laughed, discovering that they all left their partners at home

While they decided to go dancing

What a treat it was

To dance amongst adults

Who grooved with intention, who smiled at strangers

Who made space for everyone

Kept their arms in the air

Who were not afraid to sweat

The friendly flirting, the sips of drinks that were not his

The music that looped and lifted

Took strange turns, became soulful, sexy

Gospel, glorious

He looked at his phone and, contented, knew it was time to go

He looked at the guy dancing beside him and thanked him for dancing with him

A homie handshake and hug

By the lockers he noticed another guy just arriving, putting his coat into one of the

tiny metal squares near his

“Hey, do you know how to pay for these lockers?”

He could have told him to scan the QR code that was inside the locker door

But instead, he said,

“You want to use mine? I’m leaving now anyway.”

“Oh, sweet.”

“This is the code. Just put your stuff in and I’ll show you how it works –

And take a picture of the email I got with password. That way you have it.”

“Oh, nice!”

“Yeah, this way you don’t have to pay €7.50 for this tiny locker!”

“Oh, wow, thanks.”

“No, problem! Have a fun night!”