Well, after that little abortion of a rambling I typed here earlier, I made haste out the door, jumped in the car, and headed in the direction of downtown Denver. The traffic was worse than I had hoped, I hit lots of red lights, and got unlucky with finding a parking spot quickly. By the time I had parked several blocks away, it was 22:10. So much for getting in before the no cover cutoff.

While I was driving around looking for parking, I contemplated whether it would be a better idea to just head back. After all, I had missed the cheap drink special as well as the free entry. Damn that stupid foot blister (which was thankfully hurting less and less, but it had delayed me enough).

But I was so psyched for the club, I decided to go ahead and cough up a few extra bucks, even if it was money I didn't really have, so to speak. Seconds after I set foot inside, I was glad I had.

The music was pumping hard and loud, and the crowd was a good one. Better than last week. The vibe was right. My mood was right. The crowd was energetic and cheerful. It was a good night to be here.

I bought a beer at the more expensive post-10'o'clock price, tipped the bartender, and decided that would be my only drink for the evening. Gulped it down in record time, pausing just long enough to allow myself to consciously register the flavor before swallowing, and hit the dance floor.

It took a couple songs for me to warm up. The pain in my foot, which had had me limping around in near agony just hours earlier, gradually dwindled until it became a non-issue. Or maybe I just willed it away. It couldn't stop me from enjoying this night.

Moving to the music -- loud and powerful enough to be felt as well as heard, vibrating in to the bones -- I realized how much I've missed this; being away from this scene for over a year.

Since moving back in with my parents, 98% of my music listening has been purely through headphones. That's fine and good, and headphones are a wonderful invention, but music, in its pure and truest form, is meant to resonate through the air, off the walls, touching everyone in the vicinity, allowing all who are present to share and participate in the experience. (A quote from Nemo's video comes to mind about music being among the most basic forms of human communication.)

As I drifted through this fantasy alterworld, my body driven by the rhythms and melodies of NiN, Sisters of Mercy, Depeche Mode, Garbage, and countless other venue favorites, I contemplated these and other mysteries.

Though I had visited a few of the other Denver clubs on occassion, I always found myself feeling a little... out of my element at the others, yet I am repeatedly drawn back to this one. Tonight, I consciously parsed more of the reasons. Though the musical selection and general aesthetic is certainly part of the equation, it's not the whole story.

I realized that as well as being gay-friendly, bi-friendly, transgender-friendly, goth-friendly, and just about anything else you might name, it's also single-friendly. While there are many couples who frequent the place, there is neither an implicit expectation that one "bring a date", nor any social pressure exherted to "pair off", so to speak.

When you go in there, it's all just people. Beautiful people. Strange people. Fucked up people. Friendly people. Indifferent people. Fancy people. Plain people. Sad people. Happy people. Exuberant people. Sexy people. Horny people. Lost people. Doped out people. Some in their own little worlds, others engaged in laughter with a group of friends, and still others groping one another like there's no tomorrow. It's all good.

As the night went on, the music intensified (the DJ's were on tonight, except I wasn't that wild about it toward the very end), the shuffle on the dance floor got wilder, and for a while, I found myself lost in a sea of cleavage. Damn some of those women are hot.

And all I could think was, "Thank God for putting me here tonight, in this Holy Haven where all of Satan's beautiful children of the night flock to play."

(In case anyone hadn't noticed, I still have a few lingering issues regarding some of the more repressive aspects of my religious upbringing.)

At closing, they gave a plug for the Marilyn Manson concert on Tuesday -- and more importantly, the afterparty that will take place at Onyx. The opening band is making an official appearance at Onyx afterwards, and the DJ said that the Reverend himself historically has a habit of making a personal visit to the club whenever he comes to Denver. Imagine that. The Reverend goes to Onyx too. That really says something about the place. (Exactly what it says, I'll leave up to each discerning reader.)

Well, it's past my bedtime. I've written my bit for the night. Peace, people.