Comedy and Tragedy
Saturday night I went to a comedy show fundraiser for the Integrated Education Fund. Only 7% of Northern Ireland students attend integrated schools (which are neither Catholic nor Protestant in affiliation). It was a great night of comedy in support of a good cause. I wish I’d jotted down some notes because I don’t remember any of the jokes. Laughed myself silly I did. Colin Murphy is pure genius.
I left feeling a good bounce in my step. To get back to the car, I had to walk past the Limelight, maybe Belfast’s most popular club. The line waiting to get in headed both east and west of the door--the better for passersby to see what a hot spot it is. As I walked by, prude that I am, I was horrified by how the girls were dressed. Very high heels and clothes cut along the lines of lingerie or very tiny cocktail dresses. Boys in jeans and long sleeve shirts. Everyone loudly drunk. It was a chilly night and I just wanted to put sweaters on all the girls who stood in line barely dressed. I find it heartbreaking, these girls so vulnerable. Did I do a lot of drink in my time? Yes indeed. Did I wear high heels and stand outside in cold weather barely clothed with an inch of make up on? Nope.
So I round the corner on the street where I’m parked and theres a girl sitting on the sidewalk next to a large garbage bin. She’s crying and holding a phone to her ear. All the young party people walk right by. I admit I didn’t immediately go to her aid. I went to my car, turned around and drove toward her. No one had stopped to help her. So I parked and sat with her. She was sobbing, sitting on a sidewalk amongst cigarette butts and trash in her sequence minidress, makeup running down her face. Like an oil spill had happened on her face. Contents of her purse spilled on the sidewalk. She said she was having a panic attack. She said her parents have split up and she’s worried about her younger sister and she can’t take the stress. She put me on the phone with her older sister. I said “I’m a middle aged lady who hasn’t been drinking and I want to help your sister. How can I help her?” The sister told me to wait until she got there--she’d be there in two seconds. The sobbing girl started vomiting. I wrapped her in my shawl and tried to keep her warm. Poor little thing. She said she cuts herself. She said she wants to go to university in England but she doesn’t want to leave her younger sister. Her older sister, 19, arrived about a half hour later, in a minidress and heavy makeup. I told her she needs to get help for her sister. She looked right through me.
What I SHOULD have done was find the SOS bus, which helps heavily inebriated people who are a danger to themselves. I didn’t have my phone with me and had only a vague awareness that there was some kind of service. If I’m ever in this situation again, I will go to one of the many bouncers (there were probably six bouncers at the Limelight, who ignored me while I waited with the sobbing girl for her sister to show up). If I’d gone to the bouncers, I bet they could have told me how to summon the SOS bus. The girl was in no state to walk anywhere. I basically lectured the older sister that she has to get help for younger sister because she is under too much stress. There are people she can talk to. Blah blah blah. I’m just not great at lining up resources at midnight on a Saturday.
I was shaking by the time I got home. Angry at the Limelight for making money off drunk young people. Angry at the drink culture that’s so prevalent here. Angry that young women are so stupid. Angry that this girl’s friends abandoned her. She kept asking “where are my friends?” Angry that this girl had no one to support her. Where the hell are her parents in all this? Ugh. Angry at myself for not being effective. Ugh. Frightened for all the drunk young women who have no idea how vulnerable they are. Angry that they don’t have more self respect.
In sum, Saturday night was an emotional night, running the gamut from side splitting laughter to tears of anguish.
9-12