The Weekend Nightlife

AS another one of my 27 year old weekend comes and goes, I am trying to explore the psychological satisfaction of a wild Friday night trollop and the hang-over and sloth that consumes the rest of the weekend as a result. For months now, my Friday night has been a release…a exploration of the undefined, the opportunity and wild adventure of what American society can offer in the nightlife. It is a headlong escape from the realities of the once 40, now 45-50 hour work weeks that plague our work-heavy society. We struggle through each week, gathering enough strength and energy for our daily work regimens whether they be weight training, running or basketball. Meet for a night to watch college basketball or the Red Sox, whichever season the week dictates, and crawl through a Friday which usually consists of different ruses to keep either busy or awake; going to the bathroom, a coffee break, a walk to see if there any living creatures in the office building other than the robots you work with, and lunch. But for a surprise turn in internal biochemistry, a surge of energy smacks your face when 8p rolls around on a Friday evening and there is a fresh poof of natural red bull initiative to get the ball rolling on night activities. I am working for the weekend.
The night ends, usually for me, in the backseat of a friend’s car, dosing off into oblivion with nothing in tow, no significant changes in life, and a wasted Saturday morning to boot. This was completely acceptable, as I knew no other way to enter a Saturday then accommodating a mind-numbing headache sometimes interrupted by gut-inverting throw sessions. The razorblades in the stomach syndrome, also known as the turns, is the most common symptom of Friday night wanton self-abuse, unable to get out of bed, but also unable to lie still. What the alternative to this lifestyle was, I never knew. Until you have an important task or work that needs to be done in the AM on Saturday. Then the Friday night is replaced with the good night sleep and early morning convulsions are replaced with the same early morning despair as regular days of the week, but when you finish the two hours of work you had to accomplish by 10 am and experience a care-free mid-morning uninhibited by head-aches or turns, you can appreciate what is missing. Is a blissful Saturday morning worth the absence of the Friday night release? Maybe occasionally, but it can never replace the kind of alive you feel being with friends at pubs, bars and nightclubs without the restrictions and limitations that the day brings. And after a painful sleep session that never really energized you in the first place...Let's do it again on Saturday.