Dance Descriptive Writing

I was drunk, I admitted finally, pulling my sluggish and poisoned body off the linoleum -- or was it Formica? -- dance floor as the young crowd continued to surge to the beat of some pop song. I have to sober up, I told myself as I fumbled around down the red velvet-lined hallway, passing couples in various stages of coitus, my sharp heels digging into the out-of-date, musty shag carpet and generally making it impossible for someone as inebriated as I was to exit with grace or dignity. Whatever, I thought as I made my way to the emergency exit. I had come out that night for reasons my deeply alcoholic mind might never remember. I had drank too much, danced too hard with too many horny, middle-aged drug lords and underage Latina women and …show more content…
I squatted on the ground, my head between my knees. This is going to be fun, I sarcastically pondered. Even drunk, I was still a sassy, pompous smart-ass. Good. When I finished emptying my body of about $70 worth of cocktails, I stood and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the purse that had somehow, miraculously, stayed with me. I didn't even remember grabbing it, but I thanked God -- who was probably condemning me to hell at the same time-- that I had it as I lit a cigarette and took a long drag. I looked around at the dank, grungy place I was in. I faced a chain link fence. To my right, the street. To my left, a smelly, disgusting dumpster surrounded by trash bags and boxes. Behind it was the solid stone wall of the Golden Panda Chinese restaurant (and take-out). A muffled beat blasted through the wall behind me, some overplayed song I vaguely remembered. I wracked my brain for its title, but even the orange-tinted street lights that illuminated the alley were giving me a migraine. I decided it was probably a good time to go home and lick my wounds; after all, it was Tuesday. The business world never stopped, not even for lightweight assholes like