So, contrary to popular belief, I don't get out much. I really don't. I used to go out all the time; 2 or 3 times a week when I worked my last job. Then I got into the job I have now and was routinely going out once a week (and occasionally twice). Some friendship crises hit and that crept to a standstill. And along came Keian, effectively killing any hope of a nightlife I ever had.
Since he's become more self-sufficient and things have settled a little around my house, I've been trying to get out more. I love going out. I love dancing and I love drinking; mix the two and, well, I'm there. I like closing out the bar; for me, there's really no point in going out if we're going home before 2 am.
I've been out maybe a half dozen times in the last few months. The problem I have is finding people to go with; there's only really two people I know at this moment who are willing (and able) to go out that late, and one has a broken foot. 
The other problem I have is the guilt factor; granted, I don't leave until after Keian goes to bed, but I still feel bad about leaving Talbot home with him. See, Talbot doesn't like going out. He's not a party pooper by any means, but we are total opposites about how we like to spend an evening. He hates to (and honestly, can't) dance, and would really rather staple his scrotum to his thigh than go out and sit at a bar while I dance. He's also not a very big drinker and would prefer to sit at home nursing a beer and watching a movie than going anywhere. So, then I'm left with him feeling like I've abandoned him ("But do you HAVE to go out? Stay here with me instead – we don't get a lot of quiet time without the baby"). This is true, but my view is we have 6 other nights out of the week to hang out. If I stay at home, I'm always like "another weekend night I could have gone out. I'm not getting any younger…" I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. It's hard to strike that "fair" balance.
Anyone who knows me knows that I love people watching. LOVE people watching. I could sit for hours and just veg out. Forget 'reality' TV; I'm much happier sitting at a bar/in a mall/at a park and listening to people and watching their interactions. Add alcohol to people and they become even more amusing. Add alcohol to me and hilarity ensues. So, you can see why I love going out dancing; a common place where everyone is drunk, where I can dance AND people watch. It's like my own personal heaven. Slightly voyeuristic, perhaps, but heaven nonetheless. 
The problem with living in
The City hosts a VERY interesting mix of characters. I mean this literally. It's like, imagine all the most colorful people in your life; put them all in a room together, crank up the crunk and start the party. The City's motto should be "We'll Take Your Ugly and Unwanted" or, "Gentlemen, Put on Your Beer Goggles". I know this doesn't say much about me, but hey. I gets 'em where I can gets 'em. That and, call me a stuck up bitch, but, it helps when you're in a room full of fugly people. Makes you feel cute in comparison. 
So, I'm hanging out at The City last weekend with Cathy and Jerrad for her birthday/their wedding celebration (happy one week anniversary guys!). We're waiting for things to get going on the dance floor and having some drinks (and people watching, of course). Out on the floor is this older woman, probably in her mid-40s. Doing this dance. Now, I can't describe what she's doing, other than spastically moving her limbs in what appears to be a cross between a seizure and some sort of "free love" country/western hippie dance. Jerrad took the moral high road and stated she was doing her own "interpretive dance". Interpretive, it was. Just ask Cathy. I'm sure she'll blog about it too. They even got pictures.
Also that evening was this group of people who looked like they just graduated from a Community College hip-hop/break-dancing class. I swear they were out celebrating passing the class; they were out 'showing their stuff'. At one point, two guys got into a dance off. Yes, a good old fashioned dance off. You know – like Britney and Justin?? Yeah. It was special. One of them did the windmill, and in response, the other did the worm. It went back and forth like this for like 3 minutes. People were actually circling them, cheering them on. I felt like I was in middle school again.
Finally, who could forget the Bundy twins? Cathy will surely include them in her blog as well (again, they got pics). Two girls show up dressed like Kelly Bundy. Remember Married With Children? The dresses Christina Applegate wore? Yeah. Picture this; one of them in a red skin tight short dress with a gold belt and gold shoes; the other with a black skin tight short dress with a white belt and white shoes. It was a sight for sure. I had to drink just to ease the pain. I wish you all could have been there.
Ah… The City. I'll put up a Part II to this telling you about the experience I had the time before last when I was there. About how, no matter how hard I try, I can't get ever get away from my job.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------I was on a roll. I had to keep going with it. Besides, it's slow at work.
So, I mentioned I can't escape my job, right? Well, I can't. It follows me everywhere I go. It's an unfortunate reality of this profession. I think I may have mentioned in another blog that I can't go to WinCo or WalMart without doing a quick self-reminder first. In my head I'm going "Please don't anyone hit their kids. Don't look in cars" over and over. I walk around looking at the floor in these stores. If you ever see me out and I look like I'm scrutinizing the janitorial crew's cleaning job, it's because I'm trying to avoid my own job.
This becomes a very interesting situation when I'm out drinking. As mentioned in my previous blog, I enjoy the occasional drunken debauchery. Particularly, out in the dance clubs. Apparently, so does my clientele. I have had 3 instances now where my work life bled over into my personal life in a not so fantastic way.
Back in April, I went to Taboo (when it was still a 21 and over joint) with some friends for a birthday party. I'd had a few too many (as usual) and get out on the dance floor. [Side note: thankfully, I've grown up a little, so my clothes were still on and I wasn't dry humping anyone on the floor.] I'm doing my thing when I get a 'tap tap' on my shoulder. I turn around and there is "Sharon" (name changed to protect her identity). Now, of course, I'm 3 sheets to the wind, so to speak. I had removed
When I was at The City a month ago, I got a two-fer experience that was too funny. I showed up a little early with a friend of mine, with the intent to meet a bunch of people later on. We got our drinks and a table and started amusing ourselves watching people. It's pretty early; like 10:00. Usually, the dance floor doesn't start picking up until 11. The only people on the floor are two girls who are grinding each other raw. Literally. It was pretty raunchy and I was kinda getting nauseated watching. So I started watching the people playing pool and hanging out.
Back in the back, this guy catches my attention. I realize who he is pretty much immediately; I had removed his baby from him and his girlfriend at birth. He didn't notice me (or, if he did, he did a good job hiding it). What got my attention was that when I removed his son 3 years ago, he was only 17. So, needless to say, I was curious what he was doing in a bar when he wasn't yet 21. I pondered this, and reflected a little on the case (the maternal grandmother ended up getting guardianship of the baby when mom absconded and dad admitted he couldn't care for his son).
Meanwhile, these two girls are still out grinding on the floor. My coworker/friend, Tina (name changed to protect the innocent), looks over at me and asks if I know the heavier of the two out on the floor. I look at her and am like "nope, sorry." Tina goes on this rant for like 45 minutes about how she SWEARS she knows the girl and it has to be work related. Did she do an assessment? An intern? A new hire? We couldn't place her. After awhile, the girl gets off the floor and comes over closer to us. I look at her and I'm like "well, she KINDA looks like Christina Jones (again, name changed to protect her identity), but I haven't seen her in like 3 years." Tina is like "no… that's not her" and goes about racking her brain trying to figure out this girl.
Awhile later, the girl comes over to Tina and goes "Hey! I know you!" to which they realize they know each other from daycare. Up close, I realize, yes, indeed, she looks a LOT like Christina Jones. Tina talks to this girl for awhile, then the girl gets interrupted by her friend. I poke Tina and go "who is that?" to which she goes "Christina Jones." At this time, Tina gets up to go get a drink. While gone, Christina's friend leaves. She notices me eyeballing her and comes over with a big grin on her face and goes "Hi! My name is Christina!" To which I go "Actually, Christina, I know you."
The look on her face. It was priceless. The smile fell, a sneer came over her and her whole body shifted as she took a step back. "Hi Enika," she said. It took all I had not to laugh; it was very comical. See, Christina was my first removal alone, after I "proved" myself worthy of making decisions in the field. The police had busted up Christina's place and found drugs and porno around her 4 children. It had been a LONG and bumpy road for her, but she had recently relinquished her parental rights on all 4 kids.
She proceeds to give me a spiel about how good she's doing and how she's been clean and sober for 3 years. It takes everything I have not to mention I had her case less than 3 years ago and she was using then, or the fact that she was standing in front of me drinking a huge glass of something fruity (which in my book does not constitute soberness). But, I bite my tongue and convince my normally-big-mouthed drunk self that it would be moot point and it was all irrelevant now anyway. I just smiled and nodded at her, let her go about confessing her sins, gave her a couple of "good jobs", then let her go back to her gnarly dance floor grinding.
I really try to maintain my professional life separate from my personal life. However, inevitably, they cross every so often. I just try to remind myself that people are people, despite their decisions they make or the paths they choose. And when the paths do cross, I try to do everything I can to maintain my sense of self and remind myself that it's just a job; it's not my life (even though sometimes it feels like it is).
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