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WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT


By Kenneth Wilson
Copyright © 1999

Originally written for Club Planet, www.clubplanet.com




Something isnít right about this nightclub. For one thing, Iíve never heard of it, and I consider myself up to date on whatís happening around town. For another thing, itís in the same location as - I swear on my mom - an upscale womenís clothing store that I passed by only a few short hours ago. Yeah, so Iím probably buzzing tough right now after all the drinks me and my friends put down over the evening, but I still know this town and I know that this club shouldnít be as popping as it is, especially since Iíve never heard of it.

Iíve never heard of this club. Itís going off. God damn. These women are hot. Oh, sheís got to be a model. So does she. Hell, yeah. This is at least a five to one ratio. Where are my boys at? Theyíve got to see this. How come Iím at the most popping club and Iím all alone and all my boys are still at the other club? Those fools know weíre supposed to be club hoppiní. So how come Iím the only one thatís here?

"Excuse me, bartender!" I say now. "Iíll have what sheís having!...One dollar?... You've got to be shittiní me!"

This is crazy. Iím at the most popping club and the drinks are only a dollar. And thereís five girls to every guy. At least. Where are my boys at? This has got to be the mother of all clubs. Studio 54 wasnít nothing compared to this. Where are the filmmakers? This is movie material.

No way. Thatís Brad Pitt. Wait - hold on a second. Nope - just looks like him. Damn, I've got some competition tonight.

"Hey...yeah, you! I know you...wait a second - youíre that girl off of- whatís that one show?...Yeah, that one!...Youíre not?... You sure look like her...Can I buy you a drink?"



My boys are gonna kill me. Here I am kicking it at the mother of all clubs with more women than dudes and drinks are only a buck, and I havenít left to tell them about it. But how could someone leave? They've gotta understand. Iíd call them on my cell, but I must have dropped it when that fat-ass bouncer tossed me out of the club. I didnít do anything. Fuck them bouncers anyway. Actually, they did me a favor. If they hadnít tossed me out I might never have found this club. This music is so smooth. Iíve never heard anyone mix like this d.j. And these drinks are stiff. Oh - and that girl. That girl that looked like that girl off that one show. She can dance. She showed me a thing or two, and I can move.

Where are my boys at?

"Excuse me?"

Whooh. This girl's gorgeous. "Iím sorry, go Ďhead."

"Donít you want to talk to me?"

What did she just say? "Yeah, I want to talk to you!...Youíre talking to me, right?"

"What do you think?" Her eyes sparkle.

Yeah, youíre talking to me. "Iím sorry...I just thought...it doesnít matter... Can I buy you a drink?"

"Why? You donít have to. Go to the VIP room, theyíre free."

"Where do you get a pass?"

"Dummy, you have one." Her eyes sparkle.

"What? Where?"

"On your wrist. You got it when you came through the door."

No I didnít. No I didnít. Where did this VIP pass come from? Wait - hold on. Donít look dumb. This girlís gorgeous. And she wantís me to go to the VIP room with her. "Whatís this club called anyway?"

"When the Lights Go Out."

"Really? That's a long name for a club. How come Iíve never heard of it?"

"Itís not open to everyone."

So thatís it. Iím kicking it at a private club. But how come they let me in? They fucked up. I'm not saying anything, though. Wait till my boys here about this. Theyíre gonna shit their pants. Beautiful women, one dollar drinks, VIP room. And everyoneís cool. I could do this all night.

What time is it?...What the hell?...Whatís up with my watch?...Man, I just bought this thing. I must have hit it when the bouncers tossed me.

"Who cares what time it is?" Her eyes sparkle.

"Iím just wondering when this place closes."

"Donít worry about it. Weíve got passes to stay all night."

Sheís right. What am I doing anyway? Iím a little buzzed. I need to think straight. Okay - I've got a gorgeous girl here that wants to kick it. Thatís all that matters.

"Whereís this VIP room at?"

"Itís back here." Her eyes sparkle.

Well, what do you know. A nightclub could learn some lessons from this place. Instead of an E-X-I-T sign, they made it say V-I-P-S. I need to get one of those signs for my pad. Flourescent green looks cool.

"How yaí doing, man?...Yeah, I got a pass."
      


My boys are not gonna believe me. Iím in the VIP room of a popping club, that theyíve never heard of, thereís more women than dudes, and even more women than dudes in the VIP room. Not a Hater in the club. And this place is all about style. This girl I'm getting with is dressed impeccably guci from head to toe, fully accesorised. Which makes me think that all of these women must have similar taste. Whatís the name of this club again? Oh, yeah. I am definitely coming back, private club or not.

"Whoís that high roller on the couch with all the women? Is that the owner?"

"Yeah. Heís a friend of mine. These are all friends of mine." Her eyes sparkle. "Letís get another drink."

You are music to my ears.



If Iím smart, Iíll meet the owner. This has to be a private club. Iíll just tell him that I walked in and didnít realize it. Only if he asks. Before we meet, I should sober up a little bit so I can make a good impression. But I canít be that buzzed, though. Iím talking to this girl, arenít I? She seems sober. I must not be that buzzed.

"Can you introduce me to him?"

"Are you sure you want to meet him?" Her eyes sparkle.

"Yeah, definitely."

Something isnít right about this nightclub. Why did I leave my boys behind? The lights are all but out and Iím all alone in the back of an upscale womenís clothing store.

Iím shaking hands with a mannequin.

The drink in my left hand falls to the ground and shatters. I stagger back and reach for the girl.

But sheís a mannequin too.

Theyíre all mannequins.





Send correspondence to kenny7@earthlink.net




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