A couple buddies and I walked out of the new vampire-werewolf flick called Underworld, and a few things were obviously clear. Vampires are like cats, werewolves are like dogs, and Kate Beckinsale is a very sexy woman. I tried to figure out whether I would side with vampires or the werewolves, and the more I thought about it, I realized I wouldn't be on any side. Their social war would be waged without me.

We saw the flick at the downtown theater on a Friday night, and afterwards, we walked through bustling Central Avenue between 1st and 7th Street. People filled bars and clubs on the right and left. Cars cruised at 5 m.p.h. pumping their stereos for attention. Just another weekend night in downtown Albuquerque. Five years ago, this was not the case. Downtown had no movie theater, half as many late night establishments, and a bad reputation for being the primary haven of the homeless. With a conscious effort to revitalize the area, the area has blossomed into the primary entertainment district of town.

We're walking. We're walking. We're walking. Some bars had lines out the door. Some places couldn't entice a handful of people. Strangely enough, there wasn't much different about the full and empty clubs. They all served drinks, pumped music through speakers, and had big dance floors. They looked the same. Yet some were considered the place to be, and others appeared cursed. It's all about the reputation.

A little trigger in my head shot me back to high school. Large groups of people congregating in certain areas and not in others, even though it didn't seem to matter where anyone was. That's what our entertainment district has become. High school for drunk adults. You can never go back to your youth, but if you drink enough, it's a lot easier to pretend.

If I hadn't already been in almost every bar on the street, I might have been misled by the crowds waiting to get into Maloney's or the masses occupying Ned's. Just because there are a lot of people congregating in one area doesn't mean anything interesting is actually going on. In my younger days, I spent entire nights among the throngs of clubbers not able to catch the attention of one pretty girl. I'd go home confused about the ordeal only to do it again at a later date.

Fortunately, my buddies and I weren't wandering aimlessly. We were strolling down to the Launch Pad to watch a few local rock n' roll bands. Being a garage band, the boys and I like to get a little inspiration for our loud and simple band. I don't actually fit in at the rock n' roll scene either, but the one perk is that I don't care anymore. There's a certain calmness that comes with indifference. Again, back to my younger days, I spent entire nights watching loud bands and sweaty jumping people, not able to catch the attention of one pretty girl. I'd go home confused about the ordeal only to do it again at a later date.

The purpose of all of these clubs and bars is not to do anything. It's a place to be seen, people watch, and drink away the humdrum of the week in public. I like the rock n' roll clubs because I like live loud bands. Thumping club beats and light shows don't do it for me. I like to dance and jump around, but it's not anything others would want to see on a dance floor except maybe to be the butt of jokes.

So there it is, that's the late night social scene. It's not much more clear than when I started. The only thing I can figure out is that the social patterns we learn in our school years stay with us in adulthood. The only difference is that we can order drinks. The groups and cliques will exist as long as people congregate. The one solace I have now as opposed to those younger days is that I don't care if there is a meaningful outcome to these evenings.

Chris Jungle is confused about writing his columns only to do it again at a later date.