Dance it off

Back home it's easy to find friendly distractions. At Mac, the university is small enough that no matter where you go, you'll see someone you know. That sense of familiarity is one that is still in its construction phase here at Leeds. Though I do occasionally run into a casual acquaintance, after only two and a half weeks my network is not nearly as extensive as my home base.

Yesterday, after flying solo for majority of the day, I was feeling a tad lonesome. In my experience, the best remedy for the blues is to literally shake it off, so I called up some friends and we went out on the town.

Our first stop was Mine Bar, one of three bar/clubs in the university union. It was alternative/indie night but our biggest incentive to go was their free cover. We headed over around 11:00pm only to find the place absolutely empty. It almost felt like we had attempted to go clubbing on a Sunday afternoon; there were maybe ten people in the entire place, and seven of them worked there. Despite the lack of general company, the cheap drinks and empty dance floor beckoned so we decided to stay for a while. We were actually able to dance like no one was watching, because no one was. Eventually we headed upstairs to Terrace, another union bar, but we were greeted by a similar situation. Thus started the slogan of the night: "Where are all the students?!"

Drinks at Terrace were more expensive and they weren't complimented by any rockin' beats so we soon left the union and went into town, on the hunt for somewhere with a decently crowded dance floor. It was about 12:30am at this point and most places had big burly bouncers at their gates turning people away; not because they were full but because they were about to close. We managed to claim clubber's sanctuary in "Bar rista", a club just down the hill from the university. The place was by no means packed, but the dance floor was small enough that it looked full and the music was great. We immediately began bustin' out the moves. Unfortunately, someone in the crowd was having some evident digestive problems because every once in a while, we would have to move or groove on to another corner of the floor to avoid the massive stank that was diffusing through the crowd. Since when is it ok to let one rip when you're surrounded by strangers in an enclosed space?

Note to all club goers: Kindly refrain from turning the dance floor into a gas chamber.

Though the night kind of stunk at the biggining, and then began to actually stink by the end, it was just what I needed. Good friends, good times, and a dance floor.