People Are Strange: A Poem

I think THE DOORS got it right when they sang that people are strange.  But

sometimes I wonder if it's the people who are strange or is it the not knowing of said people that make them strange, like

the rest of the line suggests?

I was thinking about this over the weekend. We

visited Tulsa, Oklahoma and a particular dance club that is one of our favorites.  It’s

called THE MAJESTIC.  The

people watching is quite spectacular, even though I don’t quite understand what really sets it apart from other like minded establishments.  

No

That’s a lie

I do know

There’s no judgement

Or at the least, very

little

People dress with as many layers

Or the lack there of

Men become the most beautiful versions of women

And vice versa, however, it’s mostly the opposite  

  Maybe because becoming a woman is more involved

Has more steps

heavy

glitter, sticky

hairspray, thick 

paint

We met up with friends

(It was more of a chance encounter than anything prescheduled)

“We aren’t going to be too much fun tonight,” they rushed to say.

“We have someone tagging along who is going through a divorce

she’s 35

never been to a night club

how is that even possible?"

The information was shared over loud heart stopping music

A girl to the right of me was dancing on stage

and then decided to jump,

hoping to be caught, but

there was no crowd

red shoes flew

butt hit ground

dress hit dirt

A man to the left of me was shirtless

proud doughy skin

cold beer

tight Wranglers

calm demeanor

A Beyonce song began to play

and

he

transformed

Solo dancing

ON THE STRIPPER POLE 

(because what proper dance club does not have one of those)

hips gyrating

stomach flapping

It was obvious he had prepared for this moment 

Beyonce

was

his 

queen

and she only ever deserves the best of his dance skills

(I respect the adoration)

“Faces look ugly when you’re alone,” the Doors lyrics continue.

And the 35 year old dance club virgin was feeling that, I fear, or that was her vibe 

perched, legs

tightly crossed, wide

eyes, long

hair, wearing

a shoulder baring sweater.

This will probably be the only club experience she is ever going to, well, experience, was my one thought.

I pitied her, I will admit

I get being stuck in your own head

I get feeling like the odd one amidst a sea of friends

I get just wanting to go home to your cats,

wine,

skin care routine

Although I hope that all changes for her and she can try to step outside of the invisible box that is her comfort for it really is quite fun on the other side

but

that would involve pushing the stranger status away

to make room

for

the unexpected, the

romantic, the

strange.