Dating 101

Once a month, the motley gang of miscreants more commonly referred to as my friends and I make the 4- minute trek to Lawrence, Kan. to go to a club called Chateau.

This trip is more than just an arduous trek to the nether reaches known as Kansas - it is an event.

It is an adventure.

Everyone arrives at my loft hours before departure for a lot of pre-planning, which of course means coordinating our clothes to ensure no one wears the exact same shirt or jeans and the designated attire doesn't detract from the entire group's collective aesthetics.

With the aid of Britney, Lady Gaga and Pitbull playing at ear-splitting decibels mixed with pre-party cocktails, we begin the whirlwind of wizardry transforming ourselves from six regular, respectable guy-next-door types into the mob known as "The A's."

Never ones to be hateful or scornful for spite, once assembled within close proximity to another with "A" in disguise, mob mentality forces a disintegration of manners and we essentially become well coifed monsters.

Once we are all piled into a single car, we grab our MP3 players and start to vie for the one iPod connection to rule over the playlist and make our way west.

While always cramped and even sometimes sitting on laps, I become thankful most of my friends have at least one eating disorder. I couldn't imagine squeezing another ounce into that tiny Passat.

Although tight and restricting, and even more so if skinny jeans and emo is the theme of choice, the short ride across Kansas is always fun. In our miniature road trip, there is plenty of off-key singing, the crime of car dancing and at least two stops to reposition and allow everyone a chance to sit shotgun and get out from under someone's bony ass.

Coupled with conversation and trying to sync our arrival with the end of a song, we seem to always miss the club's entrance the first time and are forced to make a u-turn once the mistake is noticed.

In stark contrast with most nightclubs and bars, Chateau is a log cabin that sits tucked away, almost hidden, behind the night sky because of its dark exposed timber and wraparound porch.

We park in the back lot under the cover of trees and darkness where we literally spill out of the car and gather ourselves before we make our group entrance. I have discovered those few moments before the stares and judgments from the crowd inside are essential.

Once inside, we have developed a look (soon to be patented) that is a guaranteed deterrent and 99 percent effective at scaring away anyone thinking about separating us.

Crowds are parted like a biblical Red Sea moment as we make our way to the wooden dance floor. Underneath multi-colored lights, flashing strobes and pulsating music, we revel in stares from onlookers.

Our ability to actually keep pace with any sort of rhythm is directly contingent on our intoxication levels. So our dancing can at times, to some, look erratic as we attempt choreography from a recently watched video.

After all, the nights spent at Chateau are never about those around us. They are simply about us.

They are about reconnecting and reinventing, being silly and shallow. They are about cramped car rides, cocktails and crazy dancing on a crowded dance floor.

Once a month, an ordinary Wednesday is transformed along with a group of ordinary guys and becomes an evening about enduring friendships, which are extraordinary.

crose@unews.com