Okay. So I finally motivated myself to attend an actual rave. Not a club with a rave theme or a backyard birthday party with light shows and low-grade x; a rave!
My reasons for attending this party were different. I mean, it usually comes down a large group of friends, good DJs, candy and all that other good stuff. But this time I wanted to go mainly because it was one of my very good friend's birthday; I'd been trying to see this girl for months, but outside circumstances have kept us apart. So you can imagine my excitement when she told me on Facebook that she'd be going to Happystep (the rave).
As fate would have it, the party never happened. While I was sitting out front waiting for her to show up an undercover, Chicago police car came instead. Buzz kill! Being that I'd been going to these parties forever, I knew the cop meant doom--it meant there would be no part at that venue. So me and about 20 other kids paid our door (entrance fee), which never got refunded, only to be whisked away by a cop.
Now, it wasn't all bad. Somehow, some way, I managed to save the night. I have to emphasize here: these things only happened at raves. I'm completely serious about this. Anyway, while we were waiting for this party to get started, I met these random kids from the suburbs--like me--but years younger. For a few of them this was to be their first rave: double buzz-kill!
But there was still hope. We learned of an after-party (which was actually the main event party) that was in reality a house party with a rave theme. But it qualified as a rave. These kids were awesome. They drove me all the way to this after-party before even knowing my name. On the way to the party we got to know each other and they seemed impressed at my party ethics. It gets better. I met this girl (I can't write her name here, so I'll call her "fine-girl,") and I sensed that there was a connection. Not the connection where we'd want to runaway and get married, but a connection nevertheless. The biggest problem was our age difference, but it didn't seem to make us uncomfortable. It must be noted here that nothing happened between us at this party. I just loved her vibes so I hung around her at the party and she didn't seem to get too sick of me so we just talked. It was all innocent fun and we both had a great time (I hope!).
To show my gratitude for them driving me to this party, I paid for one of them to get into this after-party (which charged an entrance fee as well...of course). When we got into the house, it was hot, stuffy and wild. I guess the best way I could categorize this party was wall-to-wall, hardcore street-raving. I wanted to make "fine-girl" feel comfortable (and show off my player skills a bit), so I bought a piece of candy and we split it.
Now, I was happy, ecstatic you could say. I felt like I was the luckiest guy in the over-packed house (with at least 200 people). I mean, I got to chill with this hot girl and her friends and meet some interesting people. I was more than content. Though the environment was poor: too hot, too crowded, not enough water, etc. Everything went well. I gave this "fine-girl" one of my favorite pieces of kandi; and I put it on her wrist.
These kids were so young, I didn't want to encourage them to stay out for days like I used to do. I felt as if they did enough by making my night so awesome I just asked them fro a ride to the el. Of course they were suburb kids and had no idea how to get to the el. We surmised that we all were traveling to the north suburbs so I was on their way. They gave me a ride all the way to my house, and I have to say, the ride home was chilled: I got to sit next to "fine-girl," making it easier for me to talk to her without having to yell over the music.
This is why I continue to be passionate about raves, parties, cool club kids...anyone who follows the "PLUR" guidelines. Oh what a night!
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