The Clubbing Crew: Ready for Anything

Years ago, back when I lived in Lansing, I had a rotating crew of friends—kind of like how in a big family, your closest sibling depends on who’s free to hang out. One Saturday night, it was just three of us: my friend Jae—better known as Jaemonda—Dan, and me. Jaemonda was a fantastic dancer and hairstylist, and Dan was the Dudley Do-Right type: good-looking, rich, and always eager to be the center of attention. We decided to hit up Backstreet in Detroit for a night out.

We met at Dan’s place for our mini-road trip, all dressed to impress in our finest clubwear. I was ready to dance the night away—that was my thing. Dan, with his lead foot, threw in a mixtape from some random DJ, and off we sped down 96. Thanks to Dan’s need for speed, we got to Detroit in no time. It was a cool fall evening, and by the time we arrived, Backstreet was alive with energy. The line to get in wrapped around the corner, but I was just excited to be with my friends. I wasn’t looking to meet anyone; I was there for the vibe.

Inside, the club blew me away—the sound system and stage looked like something out of Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation tour. Being new to Detroit’s scene, I wasn’t about to jump on the dance floor right away. I watched how the locals moved, ready to steal some fresh moves to bring back to Lansing. The DJ was spinning rave tracks—not really my favorite—but I could still catch a groove. My heart beats for house, deep house, and techno, all of which are deeply rooted in Black music.

After about an hour (and a couple of drinks), I felt the music calling me. I eased onto the dance floor, hips swaying, and started strutting. The crowd seemed to love it. Jaemonda kicked into gear—literally—with his signature kicks. Dan, unsurprisingly, wasn’t much of a dancer; he was just there to soak up the attention.

A Wild Ride Club Adventure Begins

After the club, Dan linked up with some random guy, but Jae and I were ready to call it a night. I wasn’t used to late-night eats after partying—normally, I’d head straight to bed. But somehow, we ended up at Leo’s Coney Island in Bloomfield Hills for some food. Once we wrapped up and paid, we headed back to the car.

Dan hopped into the driver’s seat, Jae took the front (he’s taller than me), and I slid into the back. That’s when the night took a turn. The car wouldn’t start. Panic set in—it was 3:30 a.m. Dan called his mom for help and then phoned AAA for a tow back to East Lansing. Here’s the kicker: AAA told him the truck could only take two passengers. One of us had to stay behind. Cue the sober, wide-eyed stares.

Before I could even process it, Jaemonda sprang into action. When the tow truck showed up, only Dan and I were standing there. The driver asked, “Weren’t there three of you?” Dan coolly replied, “Yeah, but our friend found another way home.” Curious, I went to grab my jacket from the backseat. I opened the door and casually asked, “Hey, you good back there?” From the darkness, Jae’s voice floated up: “I’m fine.”

Jaemonda had climbed into the trunk—yes, the trunk—for the entire 75-mile tow back to Lansing. I couldn’t stop picturing him bouncing around in there as the flatbed truck bobbed and weaved through traffic, hitting every pothole along the way. When we talked about it recently, Jae laughed and said, “I knew if I stayed behind, Dan wouldn’t have come back for me. That shady queen!” We had a good ol’ cackle over that one.

We never hung out with Dan again after that night. It was like he blamed us for his car dying. But that wild ride is something I’ll never forget. I do miss Jae, though—especially our epic dance battles. He told me recently, “I miss you and those days. We should’ve never grown up, lol.”

Sometimes, I really do miss those nights. We put in full shifts at the club, partied hard, and even though we were all a bit frenemy-ish, we always came together for a good time. And if there were any beefs? We settled it on the dance floor.