Here’s my version of that rather tired Dave Chappelle trans humor that everybody got upset about a while back. I don’t mean to offend, so if it does I apologize in advance:
“If I could transition to anything I’d transition to. . . Friday, 12:45 am. Technically it is Saturday morning but when you left the house it was still Friday night. That’s what I’m going for here because I want to be fun more than anything else.
A lot of things are going on at 12:45 am Friday night. Because it’s Friday night, people get paid and have a little money to spend. If you’re young and you feel like going out, you do that because why waste a perfectly good Friday night? TONI-AI-IIIGHT! WE ARE YOUNG! And 12:45 am is a good time of night because the bar won’t close for at least an hour.
People are having a good time at 12:45 am. Some of them are exchanging phone numbers, saying they’ll text each other. Maybe they’ll make a date but it doesn’t go anywhere, or it’s a one-time hookup, or maybe it goes somewhere and leads to another date, then a third. . . then years later you’re married with a house, two kids and a dog. Or probably the girl gives you the number of a chinese buffet place just to get you off her back.
At 12:45 am, the night is turning on a dime. Two girls are having a catfight outside a club. Somebody catches it on their phone. It gets uploaded to Twitter and a half-million people see it because the tweet says “Wait for the end”. At 12:45 am, the band is playing and people are dancing. Who am I kidding? The DJ is playing, pushing buttons or whatever. People are drinking and laughing but some of them are vomiting. They’re fighting and/or getting arrested, developing and/or enhancing their criminal records. Somebody has gotten drunk, convinced himself love isn’t real and is getting a tattoo: on one arm it says “LOVE”, on the other arm it says “EVOL”.
In big cities and small towns, people aren’t ready to go home yet. 12:45 am feels just right. If there’s a master plan to the nightlife, it’s beyond our comprehension
I would transcend the physical realm altogether and become a moment in time. 12:46 am comes and I’d be a memory. A snapshot, insignificant to many, remembered by some and beloved by others. All for their own unique reasons. This is fate. We’re told to “live in the moment”. Let’s be the moment.
Granted, I don’t feel like Friday night 12:45 am trapped in the body of a forty-one year-old man, but I can dream.”