Last weekend I went to a club for a Saturday night out. There is a very specific excitement when going out on Saturday. The preparation, picking something nice to wear, or styling your hair. Sitting in the Uber with anticipation for the numerous open possibilities you’re about to experience. Wondering who you will meet, what you will see. It’s patio season and warming up, more people will be venturing out. Nothing matters except where you are going. There is a palpable sense of adventure as you leave your ride and step through those doors. The night becomes yours.

Then there are Saturday nights like this one. When you walk in and realize it’s very empty. After getting a drink and doing a survey of the room, I went to the patio and it was quiet outside too. Those who were there were sitting at tables, talking. It was social, but not exactly lively. Not unusual for an early hour in the night. I went inside to sit with my drink and watch the music videos playing on screen, feeling a little lost.

Then three friends I know showed up. Finally, some familiar faces to get the night started. I joined them and caught up for a bit. They comment on the club being empty and then the phones come out. Suddenly I’m the only one in our circle looking at the people in front of me and not a screen. Conversation shifted from a dialogue exchange to parallel monologues. I tried asking questions to engage them, these were friends after all. But it felt like I was a distraction for whatever they were watching or sharing among each other. Conversation with me was their un-skippable ad.

One of them suggested we go to the patio to see if it was busier outside. Yes, I thought, the energy outside will draw them back to reality! We walked out and stood at the edge of the vacant dance floor. Within moments, one of them commented how it was still empty on the patio. The phones come out again. It’s the strangest irony, standing in a group but not interacting. I glanced around at other clusters of friends and noticed how engaged they were with each other.

A couple that my friends knew came over and joined us. Great, I thought, more people means they’ll snap out of it and socialize! Nope. Once they joined the group, the couple brought their phones out too. They’re multiplying. As the patio became more crowded, I was pushed outside of the circle by the rush of passing people. When the group would converse with one another, they had their phones gripped in their hands at their side, holding on for dear life. And here I was watching from the fringe with my phone in my pocket.

All I could think was, why did they even come out tonight? They chose to spend their night in a social setting only to be completely disengaged. Was I the only one noticing this contradiction? I realized I was simply the odd one out in this group. I looked around and allowed myself to take in the environment around me, to live in the moment.

The atmosphere at the club was near ethereal. The buzz of conversation, the laughing, the lights. There is something so singular about being there. This is an experience, a sensation, I can only get here. I come out for moments like this. I realized that for my friends I only existed in the periphery. I decided to break off from the group and socialize on my own the rest of the night.

This experience made me realize how difficult it now is for people to live in the moment. It goes beyond recording concerts with our phones. We will leave our houses, go to a social setting, stand in a group with friends, yet not interact with them. We’re too busy posting on social media about being at the club or scrolling through people and places we’d rather be. The very act of socializing, one meant to be personal, has become superficial. The goal isn’t to be social, but to be seen as social.

I know I’m not immune. I lose plenty of time scrolling too, and I know you’re reading this on a device. However, given the effort I put into having a night out, I want to spend it interacting with people. There is a sadness that strikes me when seeing how the very act of socializing has become superficial. It makes me worry that this loss of connection with others will never be recovered. If it ever returns, send me the link so I can watch it. Maybe this is just the dystopia we live in.