Chamonix – L’Amnesia Part II

L’Amnesia. It looked better in the midnight dark, or at least looked less bad. A fat guy on a stool manned the door, giving the black portal some semblance of a real club and not just a place to contract a venereal disease.

Belowground (because the only place you could legally run this kind of club was underground) the bar glowed oddly green, like an enthusiastic slime party. Bass throbbed from an empty dance floor. A gang of men stood on one side of the bar and a whole lot of no one stood everywhere else.

It’s probably just early, we assured ourselves. Barely past midnight. People in Europe don’t go out until 2 or 3. This lullĀ  provided a chance to order some drinks and establish ourselves as the dopest guys in the club.

So we ordered drinks, sat idly on some couches for a few minutes, and then went to hang out with the other dudes.

Turns out they were members of a German bachelor party – you’d be hard-pressed to come up with a better group of men to run into in a nearly vacant club. Immediately, we were doing shots, buying shots, doing shots, buying a row of 10 mint and vodka shots, doing those, buying more, ad infinitum. We kept buying rounds of ten shots because, at a mere 30 euro, it seemed like such a great deal. Minutes or hours later Eric was talking enthusiastically in practically fluent German, Drew was hitting on some hot crones, Michael was nowhere to be seen, and I was gravitating towards the dance floor as if I were wearing roller skates on a steep hill.

I remember there being an off-center column in the dance floor. I would circle behind it to practice moves, then burst forth into the small group of girls who’d somehow materialized, hoping to wow them with my America’s-Best-Dance-Crew groove. Eric was there too! We might have made a circle. Grins were exchanged. Drew probably wandered in. Where was Michael? I danced with a cute girl, flirted crazily, lustily. Dance floor heating up. Some dude yelled at me in French or whatever. I didn’t care, I’m was too busy dancing at this girl. He yelled again, grabbed me. Something about…girlfriend? Oh cool.

Then I blacked out.

Next thing I know I’m waking up in our hotel room to the sounds of this video being played by Eric. It’s 10am. It’s very bright. It’s still very drunk. I might still be in Europe.

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