So the day finally came. I've been looking forward to it all week. Tonight, me and my boyfriend, Razz, were going to Cruuz, a gay club in Charleston, South Carolina. I was sitting at my computer. It was about six thirty, and I was going to leave in thirty minutes to pick up Razz. I was already ready. I felt like it should have taken me longer, but in all reality, I didn't do anything differently than I would if I were going to school. I took a shower, I spiked my hair, I brushed my teeth, and I put my clothes on (my favorite pair of jeans, and my favorite button-up.) I had ninety-two dollars in cash, and I had forty on my debit card. It was already decided that I was paying for most of the night, because Razz had a bad week at work. He at first didn't want to go, because he didn't want me to pay for him, but I forced him to let me pay. He could buy me an expensive dinner, or take me out to Cruuz again later. I put shoes and socks in my car, because Razz told me I shouldn't wear flip-flops to the club. (Note that I wear nothing but flip-flops. This was upsetting news to me.) He said that my feet were going to get stepped on, or I was going to (drunkenly) trip or something. I was ready. I drove over to Razz's house.
Razz let me in. His face was shaved, which I had never seen before. Personally I like his scruff, but it was cute. It made me think of the pictures I've seen of him when he was my age. (I'm eighteen, he's twenty-two.) He walked me into the living room, and he went back to his room. He was still getting ready. I just sat in the living room watching television with his roommate Shell. I can't remember what we were watching, but I'm pretty sure we got through an entire episode before he was ready. "What a diva," I thought to myself, and then told him later. When he finished getting ready, he grabbed my hand and walked me out to my car.
We first went to dinner. We went to my favorite restaurant in Beaufort, House of Tokyo. We sat down and both ordered two orders of sushi each. He told me more stories about things he did when he lived in Raleigh, and Denver while we waited for our food. (I really love his stories. Razz is a really fascinating guy.) We ate our food. Razz only ate about half his sushi. He was already slightly full from the ginger salad, and miso soup. He also said if he ate too much, he wouldn't want to drink later. This was a very smart idea, but I was starving, so I didn't follow his example. We got his left over sushi in a to-go box, I paid, and we left. (This wasn't a super important part of this story, but I really enjoyed our sushi date, so I wanted to talk about it a little.)
So now was the true start of the night. We were headed to Charleston. Razz was driving and I was in the passenger seat. I was sipping on a blackberry alcoholic drink Razz bought me at the gas station we stopped at before we left Beaufort. We chained smoked and listened to music together while I started developing a buzz. (Razz and I decided it was a good idea to get me a little drunk before I got to the club, since I'm eighteen, and it would take more of a effort to sneak me drinks there.) I finished the can a little too quickly though. We were still about an hour from Charleston and I could already feel a good buzz. "Shit," I thought to myself, "I'm gonna get sober before I even get there."
I just threw the empty can out the window and pop the tab on the second can. It was dark, so I couldn't see what it was, but about the size of a Four Loco. I knew it wasn't a Four Loco though, because I told Razz specifically not to buy me a Four Loco unless it was grape. (Which I'm starting to think doesn't exist anymore. I can't find them anywhere.) Well, it was about the grossest drink I have ever tasted. I've never had fermented cough medicine, but if I had to try it, I have a feeling it would taste like this drink, except the drink had a sickly sweet taste that attempted (and failed) to cover it up. I couldn't even take it down with a cigarette (which is my main strategy when it comes to downing gross drinks. I just set it in a cup holder in the back, and popped the tab on my second blackberry flavored drink. We ended up stopping at a gas station to go to the bathroom. Razz bought me a Lemonade Four Loco, (I told him anything was better than the what-ever-the-hell stuff he got me) and him a beer. (I was incredibly jealous of his beer.)
After my second blackberry drink, a few sips of my lemonade Four Loco and Razz's beer, and many cigarettes later, we finally were in downtown Charleston. We circled downtown a couple of times, until we found a parking garage. I made Razz park at the top, despite the fact that he had to use the bathroom really badly. (I did too, but I love looking over Charleston, or any other city for that matter, from a high point of view like a parking garage. It's so pretty up there.) We parked, and we both decided that we would just pee in a corner next to our parking spot. (It was about eleven fifteen, so it was dark, and nobody was up there anyways. Not a lot of people were even parked up there. I looked over my shoulder and saw a security camera though. I told Razz and we both decided to ignore it.) Then we went to the elevators, and pressed one, for the bottom floor.
Probably the coolest thing about the club was that it was right there. You take a left out of the elevator, you take five steps, and the entrance is immediately to your right. Razz and I stood outside for a couple more minutes to smoke one last cigarette. I was shocked. It was eleven fifteen and the club didn't seem very busy. (I had always heard you don't go to a club before ten. Razz informed me that the actual time was eleven.) The bounce and an (obviously gay) plump employee were standing outside to smoke a cigarette. I remembered I left my phone plugged into the charger an had Razz go with me back to the car so I could unplug it before we went in. (I mostly did it, because I didn't want to go in if it was dead in there. I wanted to buy some time.) Luckily, as we waited for the elevator, a large group of fellow gays stepped off. "Yes!" I exclaimed with a whisper in Razz's ear, "Gay people!"
Once we got back down I was ready to go in. I handed the bouncer my I.D. first. He looked at it, put a wrist band with green x's on my left arm, and drew two large black x's on the back of both my hands with a large sharpie marker. "Great." I thought.
Then Razz handed the bouncer his I.D. The bounce looked Razz up and down about ten times. "Yes," I thought to myself, "He's over twenty-one." It was obvious that the bouncer thought that it was a fake, because a twenty-two year old doesn't often come to a club with an eighteen year old. He finally handed him back his I.D. and put a red wrist band on his right arm. We walked inside, paid that plump gay guy, and continued into Cruuz.
