Gay Man's Single Files 6: A Typical Night at Splash

In a recent piece, I spoke about ways of dealing with stress and well, yes, depression. Whenever things get a person down, they need distractions to occupy their minds, even if for a little while. After all, wallowing in your misery only makes things worse and a good distraction helps to ease the pain a bit. Since I live alone, I need to find my distractions outside of my house, and for me that's a place where I can go and dance.

For the past several months, I've found my dancing solace at a place called Splash in New York City. It's a large nightclub that's perfect for losing yourself on the dance floor, free from all cares and worries. Though I'd been going there before I met him, my visits there have been different since. Whenever I'd go out alone when we were together, I'd purposely not make eye contact with anybody because I wasn't interested in meeting anyone, not even for a dance. Since the breakup, I've not made eye contact with people for different reasons.

On a recent visit to Splash, I'd decided that for the first time in a long time I'd give it a shot at being receptive to glances that came my way, if even for just a dance. So I braved icy roads and headed into the city, hoping for an even bigger distraction than I'd been experiencing. What I discovered was that although I thought I was getting better, I think I still need more time to get through the sorrow of my recent breakup. I found I may have to start rethinking my distractions.

As always, I got to the club and almost immediately jumped into the mix of people dancing on the dance floor. Like I said, I was going to try and meet people this time, not going to shy away, and I started the evening out with those very intentions. I danced the way I always do, with good moves (if I say so myself!) and a big smile on my face, and I did get attention from several interesting people, but most of the attention I got was unwanted.

Within the first few minutes of hitting the floor, I ran into this guy I had known from going to Splash these past several months. I don't know his name and we've never spoken at length, but a while back he had pursued me and I had to let him know that I wasn't interested. He got the message and now whenever I see him we just share a dance or two, which is totally cool with me.

That night he had two friends with him, neither of whom was anything to look at. I was dancing by myself on the side of the dance floor when I caught the eye and smile of my 'dancing buddy.' I danced over towards him and smiled at his friends, which they apparently took the wrong way because within seconds the two of them were trying to make a sandwich out of me! I had one of them pressed up against my back and the other to my front, and the two of them were holding hands and smiling towards one another. My dancing buddy just smiled. I had to do some pretty wild maneuvers to get out of that one and for the rest of the night I had to keep one eye over my shoulder and my arms ready for some shoving if need be.

Meanwhile another dude, a shirtless, muscular Latino guy, was giving me the eye. He was good looking enough, but he wasn't my type. As I tried to keep at arm's length from the two guys, this one seemed to believe it was his job to rescue me, and so he started dancing up towards me. Within seconds, he was running his hands down my back. I turned around to face him and move myself away, but he was looking me square in the eyes and moving closer towards me. When his hands reached out towards my chest I made my move. I slithered away from the three of them towards the opposite end of the dance floor. Throughout the night, I had to keep eluding them, forever dancing my way across the floor to another spot. Every time I moved it always seemed the three of them were still close by, watching me.

At one point there was a cute guy who'd been shooting me big smiles. He was dancing with someone, but he was clearly interested. We danced up to one another a couple of times, and at one point he reached across and stroked my cheek with his hand. I smiled back at him. Just then, one of the two guys from before made his way back towards me and started simulating the moves of an ornery dog on someone's leg. I rolled my eyes at the cute guy, turned to push the other guy back, and moved on off the dance floor, leaving them all behind.

After leaving the dance floor I headed downstairs. Splash has a second bar area down there complete with a disc jockey and its own crowd. They were playing Beyonce's "Get Me Bodied", one of my favorite songs, and I jumped into the fray on the tiny dance area and got my groove on for a bit. Before the song ended, though, the "witching hour" hit without warning.

As has happened to me almost every time I've gone to Splash since he left me, I hit a point in the night when he popped into my head. I don't know if it's because that's where I met him or whether it's just me coming down from my distraction, but I suddenly get a sense of being overwhelmingly alone in a place teeming with people. The music and the faces fade into the background, and all I want to do is get out of there. I quickly ran to the coat check to get my jacket and I left. Within minutes, I was once again in my car for the long ride home, listening to sad music and thinking of him. Yeah, I definitely think that I need to rethink my distractions...

For more about this writer's coping mechanisms, please see Just Dance.

*Portions of this article were previously published.