"The experience of a lifetime"

Only seven more work days left. I can't believe it's flown by this fast. I'm already nostalgic and I haven't even left yet.

Today is the start of a hectic week and a half. Val, the office's secretary, has left for vacation, and she is honestly the person who holds our office together. Somehow I got chosen to sit at the front desk and attempt to keep some form of order in the front office. Not only does this mean that I'm on my own, (aka lonely) but this means that I have to stay on top of things and act like I know what's going on. Usually, I'm good at this... I do it all the time in the SGA office, but it's a little different when senators and representatives, and the former FEMA director are/is walking through the door. None-the-less, I smile and look pretty. I'm good at that.

Amazing reception yesterday at Tortilla Coast. Arkansas State University-Mountain Home invited all the Arkansas people for free food, drinks, and giveaways. It was by far the most fun reception I've been to yet, mostly because it reminded me of exactly the sort of schmoozing that I'm accustomed to at UCA. I found humor in the situation, and I'm not going to lie, I enjoyed the free taquitos.

After the reception I went directly home and fell asleep. It was like 8:30. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but I've just been sooo tired. I only woke up to brush my teeth, take out my contacts, and briefly talk to Brad, although I do not recall the conversation. I do recall a rancid smell that hit me as soon as I walked in to our apartment last night. Sarah and I determined it was either the trash that needed to be emptied, or raw sewage mixed into our tap water. It was TERRIBLE, and I kept waking up throughout the night wondering what it could be. This morning, as I was preparing for work, it was STILL present. Finally, after a few coats of aerosol febreeze, Bath and Body Works coconut lime verbena room spray, and Sarah's Vera Wang Princess perfume, we decided to take out the trash and hope for the best. If the smell is still there when I get home, I'm going to sleep in the lobby.

I neglected to describe my experience with major league soccer last week. I found out on Friday that the the MLS team from Dallas, FC Dallas, was playing the Washington team, D.C. United in D.C. Now, historically I've not been a huge soccer fan, but in the past few years I have redefined my fascination with all things latin, so soccer is right up my alley. I decided that I had to go to the game.

Sarah had been begging us to go dancing since she got to D.C. She says that she can't dance in Arkansas because she knows too many people and doesn't want to make a fool of herself. I personally would rather dance in a room full of friends because that way I know I'm not going to get molested. Whatev. So, Friday night we [my intern friends and an eclectic group of other people that we've met since coming to D.C.] decided to try out the club that Jamaal, my co-worker had suggested for Thursday. We met up in Chinatown at this place called Matchbox. Pretty much we just rescheduled our entire Thursday on Friday. Dinner was great, although Ramey's glass completely fell apart at the table. Not kidding, he picked up his water glass to take a drink and the bottom half fell off of it. Clean break. Water everywhere. Drenched our entire side of the table. Ridiculous.

After dinner we set out to find RnR. We asked a guy on the street if he knew where it was, and he pointed us in the direction of the club, describing it as a "high school weed party." We were skeptical, but I pushed the group on, knowing that this was probably the only 18 and up club in D.C. and half of our group was under 21.

We walked up to the place and a fiery door guy walked over to us. He gave us the once over and gathered us in a circle about ten yards from the door.

"Hey, my name is John, and I'm really glad you guys are here. I'm going to warn you though, we're having a fundraiser tonight to fight AIDS and it's a costume party. The crowd is about 70-3o wearing costumes right now, and I'm going to let you guys in, but just know that a lot of people are going to be dressed up."

He pauses and looks at each of us to confirm that we were still interested. I also make a point to tell him I'm from UCA, since Jamaal told us that he's an alum. He freaks out. We talk for a minute about C. Arkansas. He's very nice, but he smells bad.

"I'm not going to charge you cover. I'm going to make you my guests, so just go on in and you'll have the experience of a lifetime."

At this point I begin to worry. However, I decide that even if we leave we're not going to find another place where we can all get in. I give him my i.d. and he gives me a bracelet. I file in to the club, making sure that Reuben, the friend of a friend, goes in before me.

What I saw at this point I cannot describe. One, because there aren't words for it. Two, because I would blush and I'm still sitting at the front desk. This was no normal costume party. When I first walked in I noticed something was different because it was very dark, and I don't use this word to convey the racial make-up of the group. I actually mean that there was a very gothic theme going on, but that wasn't the only theme I noticed. Actually, the real theme seemed to be any walk of life that would open someone to the possibility of aids. There where scantily clad folks everywhere. Most where wearing scary eye make-up, men and women a like. I saw a naked couple making out in the corner. They had a very, uh, "involved" audience. Whips and chains seemed to take the place of purses and coats. The music could be described as "demonic" and I did my best to avoid eye contact. I cringed everytime the crowded quarters forced me to bump in to someone, because most of the time that meant touching bare skin... no matter what part of the body. This was just the first of four floors.

Keep in mind that our group was less than accustomed to this scence. I was with a Cornell graduate and now Navy instructor, a Harvard grad, a current Ouchita Baptist student, two Fayetteville students, the current Miss Conway, and a few other loose ends. It's a good thing the lights were so low, beacuse I'm certain that our faces were the color of a tomato. We just wanted to dance. No frills. At this point, frills were the least of our worries. Did I mention that everyone in the club was over the age of 30. These weren't young naked bodies we were exposed to... but scary, wrinkly, nasty, crusty old people.

I honestly couldn't keep a straight face. I was either hiding in Reuben's back or laughing, or had my hand up to my open mouth in pure shock. Someone suggested we try to go upstairs. I guess they thought it might get tamer?!? Either way, we started up the stairs.

My encounter occured on the first flight. There was a scraggly looking girl trying to make her way down as we were going up. She was wearing something that resembled an "x" made out of string or rope that only covered the very essentials. And I use cover in a loose sense, because it didn't cover a thing. However, she DID carry a large cane that had a demon on the top and she was wearing a mask and spike heels. She had obviously had too much of something, although I'm not sure it was alcohol, because her swagger was more than noticeable. Might I insert here that it was barely midnight. Anyway, she slipped, and when she did, not only did I get stabbed in the abdopmen by her nasty spike heel, but I got a full shot of EVERYTHING when her legs went opposite directions. WoW. Had it not been for Reuben standing behind me, I'm certain I would have fallen down into the pit below never to be retrieved. Instead, he steadied me as we watched her stammer to her feet and all but creep past us.

We continued on our journey up the stairs. Each floor got worse and worse. Our entire visit to RnR lasted 5.8 minutes. I was horrified.

When we finally made our way back to reality, we found John standing outside chuckling. He looked at his watch.

"Now you know why I didn't bother charging a cover."

No one spoke.

"I'm going to give you my card. Come back tomorrow, be my guests, it'll be a different crowd. We'll open up a bottle of champagne for the Arkansas folks. We'll celebrate UCA on me."

Hands went out, still, no one spoke.

We were in shock. He gave us directions to a calmer place and we left. Still in shock.