Rob-Rivera.com

Confessions of a Free Spirit

I’m sure there’s something worth saying about the social validity of the nightclub. I’m positive about it. I guess age is turning a corner with me, though, and the way I’ve found myself enjoying these venues is nowhere near the ways I used to all but 5 years ago. I don’t want this to become an introspective piece of indie movie-like proportions, not unlike every quirky situational dramedy of the last ten or so years; what I will tell you is about the different ways people can get their rocks off in the same space/situation and how the most seemingly insignificant differences can change perspectives faster than you can say “coffee and cream.”

At my current age, to say that I’m not a guy that likes going to clubs might be somewhat alienating, depending on which social circle I find myself in. It’s no longer weird for me to admit it, and I don’t know if that has to do with the fact that I’m on my quarter century, I’m not into chasing tail at clubs anymore or the self-realization that shows me just how much I don’t like the circus of the absurd these clubs are. They’ve always been, but you buy into it; part of the appeal of the biggest and brightest nightclub to hit the scene is the promise of unabashed debauchery. That’s all well and good, and I’m sure you can agree with me no matter how you choose to enjoy yourself on weekends.

With that said, I’m a free spirit. I like that I don’t let myself be reigned by labels. I’ve seen many of my friends wrestle with their interpersonal relationships and the protocols they’ve made themselves enforce and laugh. “Suckers,” I say. The thing is that I partake in the label shtick by not having any; the “free spirit” label is alive and kicking, and the sooner I realize it then the sooner I can feel more comfortable with myself. When you’re a free spirit in a club that’s located in a small, overly-catholic country such as Panama, this particular label doesn’t tend to gel well with everyone else who’s trying to follow the more mainstream tags society has made available.

I could get into my personal approach to the “free spirit” tag but I won’t risk it and then receive an interminable amount of angry emails; I’d expect a phone call or two but the e-mail has become an easier scapegoat to speak your mind in regards to deeply personal matters rather than the phone call or, God forbid, meeting up for a cup of coffee. Fact of the matter is that the last time I went to a club as of this writing, I got a wee bit shell-shocked by what I experienced.

If you’ve been lurking around my silly corner of the internet long enough, I can assume that you know I have a pretty high degree of self-regard. Comes with the territory and astrological sign. It also helps me rake up wonderful stories. Anyway, Going into this club was kind of like entering somewhat of a meat market. I immediately appreciated the comfort of having a date or girlfriend to go with me whenever I go to these silly places because for a guy who just wants to go have some fun and meet people the club scene is soul crushing; the only people who really show any interest in talking to you are almost always whores, and when they’re not they’re apparently gay. Nothing wrong with either, but I don’t go to a club to pay a woman to sleep with me or much less sleep with another man for free.

I feel for the gay man though (figuratively) since I bet they have even less of a shot at finding someone interesting to hang out or have a good time with unless they go to the only three gay bars in all of Panama City. If I was gay and a free spirit, I’d move; too many lonely nights with your dick in your hand for me to engage in further sexual masochism.

Anyway, due to the Ferris Bueller factor I’ve been blessed with ever since I was four years old, I ran into a group of very friendly, very attractive girls who were talkative and awesome. I had a lot of fun since they were as free spirited as I am, albeit for a different set of reasons. They wouldn’t be in the country for long, and it gave them the license to do whatever they wanted. I found that brave and incredibly attractive.

I had a conversation with a friend earlier that week and she kept talking about how she wanted to be in a relationship. She argued that having a relationship with someone she met at a hostel, for instance, was downright impossible since the people who stay at hostels or hotels are, if logic serves, transient beings. I’m not ready to refute that fact, but I couldn’t whole-heartedly agree. I’d like to think that I touch people’s lives in some way, whether I’m sleeping with them or not, so much so that they’ll want to contact me the next time they’re in Panama. Hell, with the beautiful minx that is the Internet it doesn’t even have to come to that; we can keep in touch with each other even when we have no desire to (I’m lookin’ at you, Facebook).

Most of the people I’ve been involved with for the past, oh I don’t know, 600 years have mostly been foreigners and, in most cases, they’re not in Panama anymore. I keep in touch with some of them, and all of them can very easily know what I’m up to and talk to me if they want to. Time heals all wounds, as they say. Anyway, I’m sure I made some friends that night, and whether their presence won’t be in Panama I’m sure I can talk to them and go visit them when I can.

There’s the game of attraction men and women go through all the time, and even for those of us who don’t care much for it there’s a degree of fun that only until now I appreciate. It’s alright, I suppose. I would love it if women who want me had the courage to simply come up and tell me (as it happened that night) but I know it’s the exception to the rule. People like games because we love to feel like we’re in control. No matter who you are, being in control has always been important and it has never been more true than when you’re trying to get it on with someone you like and/or want. No one wants to be the one that gets absorbed. The realization has given me insight into my previous relationships, so much so that I’ve found a new appreciation for every girl I ever went out with.

I’ll leave you to your thoughts on this. I’m not saying that being a free spirit is the way to go; to each their own, but if there’s anything people should get into is to not take themselves too seriously. Panama is a great place to study people and societies because every city is so encapsulated into its own social structure that it’s ridiculously easy to label people. This guy’s a nerd. That girl’s a slut. Those people are zonians. That group of dudes are backpackers, ‘cuz they stink. It’s such a part of the social structure that when you find people who can’t be catalogued like yours truly (a Panamanian who mostly speaks English, likes talking about sex, digs rock shows as much as dacing reggaeton and can adapt to the beach setting as well as cold climates, etc.) it’s like a wrench thrown into the machine. It’s great, though. If a knee-jerk reaction to this whole thing is to simply use and let yourself be used, then I’m all up for it. And the freedom I have to say this and be understood by those who truly matter to me is something I’ll protect until my eyes bleed.

Originally posted 2009-06-01 19:53:15.

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