We’re not too dressed up, but we don’t look like shabby American students either, so we make our way to a back room of this expansive bar. Walk through the door and there is a different DJ playing different music in a smaller space, but it is comfortably crowded. We get our drinks by yelling our orders to the barman who is less than a foot away, and we stand around a little awkwardly for a couple minutes, but then the night starts. People start moving to the music, and singing along if they know the song, and soon another group has joined us dancing in the middle of the floor. CRASH! A spilled pint hits the floor and a dutiful employee comes out with mop and broom to take care of the mess without disturbing the night. This is repeated several times throughout the night, though never at my hand.
We step out for a few minutes to rest, and when we return we are welcomed with open arms and new rug-cutting moves. Every now and then people slow down and the room becomes in danger of being stagnant, then somebody grabs the Energy and throws it from limb to limb, following only their whims and the pulse of the music, and we all go back into it. We dance, drink, sing, move, talk until the dim lights are brought up and it is time to go. Standing outside we huddle against the chill of the wind and bid our friends from the night good-bye, conscious that we will never see them again. As we depart, glances of regret are exchanged, and wishes escape into the Belfast night. Wishes that we had met earlier, or in Dublin, or stateside so that it might go beyond a night in a bar.
The Next Adventure 