Party like a grandma....

I partied like a loser last night....

Here's the thing, for a young 23 year, free with her own apartment I have not been doing so good 'living it up'. I usually get off work around 8 o'clock, or 9:30 at the latest. At this point the street patios of the cafe's and lounge's that litter the streets around my neighborhood are teeming with Zurich's most beautiful folk. Each day, I simply retreat home to my pad, cook myself a nice meal, respond to emails, or post blogs, read a little and hit the hay.

I am in one of Europe's prime party destinations, I am free to do as I please and still I stay at home night and after night. Something had to be done, with only two weeks left I decided it was time to go out an party.

I asked around the studio, and got a good recommendation from Markus, a club owner. This guy is so convinced about the place he has recommended me to go, that he is constantly wearing a silver VIP ring proclaiming his dedication to the place. I figured that it must be the best thing since sliced bread.

So I got ready, tried something new with my make up that worked out great, and headed out at about 1:30 as per the directions of the locals. I walked through the red light district ( a stones throw from my place and got to the club a mere 4 blocks from my place.

I wondered if I was at the right place, there was one guy standing outside smoking a cigarette: one lone doorman and no line (quite the change of place from the armies and winding ques outside Granville night clubs). I dig for my id, passport and anything I can show for legit ID, the guy laughs at me glances at my passport and says "thats very nice.." I was stunned....then again the legal drinking age in Switzerland is 16.

So I continue, down the steps to this underground club, walking alone through hallways opening a succession of heavy metal doors all painted black like I'm heading into the depths of the CIA. Then I get there....

And the place REEKS.

There is so much smoke in the air that I am convinced that they've had the smoke machine going over time, but the smell denotes its just cigarettes and weed. So I decide to suck it up. But listen, its not just that every person in the club is smoking but its the fact that for the duration of this club's life, every patron has BEEN smoking. Essentially it was like sticking your face into a bucket of cigarette buts and taking a whiff....and staying there to breathe.

So I stash my stuff...I am going to be a cool party goer tonight. So I start to dance... but the beat doesn't change for the whole hour I am there. Sure it slows down, the crowd stops bobbing, and when the DJ speeds things up again they scream in relief, as if there was actually a chance he may have left it going halfspeed the whole night.

So here I am, annoyed with the drugged up clientele that keeps spilling their drinks on my shoes, annoyed with the every person who can't dance but only seems to be body checking me around the dance floor, I'm coughing (literally) from the smoke, and they bring out the laser pointers.

LASER POINTERS

Suspended from the ceiling are these lighting machines that flash lasers all around the club to the great delight of the party goers. This is when I realized I needed to leave, because rather than rejoicing like everyone else (it did look cool), I immediately cast my eyes downward and thought

"What a safety hazard!! What if one of things hits someone's retina!!"

That combined with the fact I was constantly thinking about the welfare of my brand new Globus leopard print scarf, wondering if I was able to hand wash it to get the smell out, made me decide that I really needed to leave.

So I went home, got on Skype with andrew, ate chocolate and finished the night like every other, safe and sound in my bed.

I really need to work on my cool status....