Feeling Blue

It’s exam season here, so this post comes to you directly from the library. To forget about the stress of university, we’re heading back to the 6^th form and the first time I ever went in a club.

Some entrepreneurial pupils of my school realised that their fellow students wanted to go out at night, but couldn't because they were under 18.  Hence, they found a local establishment, not a particularly reputable one, and made a deal with them that as long as the pupils were seen on the CCTV showing the bouncers some sort of ID (it could be an under 16 bus pass), they could buy alcohol.

This went well for a period of time, until these budding capitalists realised that they could maximise their profits by inviting the lower years of the school, the youngest of which would be 14, to these events too. Unfortunately, this eventually led to all the 6^th formers dropping out, except one, who wasn't informed, me.

It was billed as a UV party, so I decided that I would paint my face blue, in an attempt to stand out from the crowd. On the journey there, my face started burning, but I persevered as I had seen enough clubs in films to know that it was impossible to enter one of these sacred places and not return with someone on your arm. I walked through the doors and didn't recognise anybody there, so I mastered walking around the dance floor with a purposeful look, so that it would be assumed that I was heading somewhere, instead of being alone.

After doing enough laps of the club to compete in the Olympics, I finally spotted some acquaintances and headed over to them. At this point I made eye contact with this girl, a really good looking girl. She didn't turn away; I knew that painting my face blue had been a good idea. I was momentarily deflated as she walked off, but in a few minutes she was dragging her friend behind her, who subsequently collapsed on me.

She put her arms around my neck, and soon we were dancing, well, I say dancing, I was more supporting her weight so that she didn't fall over. At one point we fell into this particular couple, and the guy threatened to leave me in physical distress if we did it again, although I believe he used more flowery language.

I then felt something moist on my neck, then something sharp. She was licking the paint off and then biting me. Part of me was convinced that this was the best night of my life, but she was quite possibly the drunkest person I have ever seen, and I knew I’d regret it if I didn't try to stop this. Her intoxicated state was confirmed when I asked her if she was alright, to which her response didn't consist of words, more of animalistic grunts and facial expressions.

I put my arms around her and put my palms up to my acquaintances, a way of saying ‘help me, what should I do?’, but I think this was misinterpreted as all I received in return were thumbs up. She kept rubbing her leg against my side, but I was unaware of what to do in this situation, I don’t think I’d ever had this amount of physical contact with a girl before. It was probably at this moment that I recognised kids from the years below me in school. I think I had just turned 16 at the time, so I had just hit the age where what I was doing (essentially taking advantage of a drunk child – it doesn’t sound great when phrased like that) was probably not just highly immoral, but bordering on illegal. I panicked and realised that I needed a way out.

Like a god descending from the heavens, a topless teenager headed towards me. I was then rejected, as the girl deftly took her hand from around my neck and in one motion swung them around him.

Next Post: Can it all come together before going to university?