This is gonna be brief, because I need to go to bed. But since I seem to have taken it on as my duty to write about such stuff here, I'll share a little anecdote from tonight.

Firstly, I'll say it again. Club Onyx rocks. Any place that will play Nine Inch Nails as a regular staple, Depeche Mode, Skinny Puppy, Garbage, a bunch of good bands I've never heard (broadening my musical horizons), and then throw into the mix something completely off the wall like AC/DC near the end... Well, it works for me.

Oh, and the other cool thing. Water jugs. With plastic cups stacked next to them. Get thirsty? There's always alcohol at the bar, but if you don't want to get totally stone drunk, the fresh water is cold and free. Yea!

So anyway, another night at Club Onyx. I wander in, not feeling particularly suave (so unsexy; I think I must've gained several pounds during the San Antonio trip), but it's the place to be anyway. People are slow to get underway with dancing. That's generally the custom, but especially so tonight. I surmised that it might have been due to the heat. I started sweating with just barely moving.

Fortunately, the air conditioners kicked in with a vengeance as the hours passed, and the bodies packed in. (That must require some massive power to keep the room cool. Added to the hot summer weather, several hundred active bodies moving around in close quarters, and I would imagine industrial strength AC is required.)

So here's my anecdote for the night. Attentive readers might remember that last time Bitscape was at the club, he wound up dancing next to a couple of the beauties from the Dark Arts fashion show, which had the magically unwanted effect of making a part of his anatomy morph. (That is, to change shape.)

Tonight, one of the girls was back. And, somehow, dancing very energetically near me again (along with two or 3 other guys). Through several songs. OMG, she was hot. Moved beautifully. And her skintone was perfect. Powerful, athletic muscle under that little dress. (Am I proving my shallowness once and for all now?)

Anyway, I decided that when the window of opportunity opened, I would initiate a conversation with her of some sort. Didn't have to mean anything or bear any lasting significance (although, knowing me, it would anyway, as evidenced by the fact that I'm writing about it now). Just say some casual, or silly thing. But I had to say something.

Anyway, a while later, I spotted her standing alone at the edge of the room, and decided now or never. Butterflies in the stomach, be damned. My hnhibitions softened after having had 2 beers, I walked up to her, got her attention, and shouted over the music, "You're really hot."

She didn't understand what I said, so I had to repeat it.

"You were really hot out there!"

She smiled, and said something along the lines of "Thank You."

"You really are, I mean, I get an erection just watching you."

A slightly embarrassed laugh, and, "Oh my God." Giggles. Was she flattered? Maybe. Amused? Certainly.

Ok, that was it. I had made my mark. I had nothing else to say. I returned to the floor, and continued to pay homage to the gods of the beat. Some sort of ridiculous grin crossed my face.

She came back and danced some more several times during the course of the night. Not coming in as close to me, but not shying away either. I think I might have slightly wierded her out. Or maybe she didn't want to excite the beast too much, ala American Pie. Heeheehee. Oh well. It was worth it. Meaningless, shallow fun perhaps, but fun nonetheless.

More importantly, another barrier of inhibition within me was broken. That's the real victory.

"Small moves, Ellie. Small moves."

Um... yes. So anyway, that was fun. Oh, and there was another girl there that looked exactly like Cordelia Chase. A dead ringer. Seriously. (Although perhaps dressed a little more sluttily, if you can imagine such a thing.) Oh, and she had the audacity to be wearing a bright white miniskirt and pastel blue tank top, amidst the sea of black. A fashion rebel, at least in that place. lol.

I didn't get a chance to talk to her (or perhaps I didn't have the courage to make a chance), but the resemblence was amazing. That was funny.

Oh, and there was a guy puking his brains out in the bathroom, but he was good-humored enough. I said, "One too many beers, eh?"

"Yeah, a bunch of beers, and then a shot that finally did it. Some advice: Stay away from sexual allegators. That's all I have to say."

I smiled, nodded, and backed away before exiting the restroom. I'm sure I've seen that guy around before. He might've even played in one of the bands at the festival, but I'm not certain. Can't quite remember.

Alright, so my "one" anecdote turned into 3. More or less. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight.