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I’m not even going to ask if you know what I’m talking about, because dear reader, I know you know. It’s a laugh that starts low. It tickles the bottom of your belly like a spark that sets off a chain reaction so euphoric, your eyes will water, you will physically shake, and you will lose all ability to speak. I’m talking about the belly laugh.
The belly laugh will be set off not by a cheap joke, or crude comment about the dime piece at the bar, but by the perfectly timed subtle humor that only breeds in friend groups with some history. It will be a knowing glance and comment under the breath or a pithy one-liner referencing a memory of old. It will be Bobby’s irreverent responses to otherwise polite inquiries or Samantha’s candid analysis of a reckless evening out, causing you to shake so hard you spill black coffee all over the brunch table.
Belly laughs happen in dark corners of bars, crammed into a plastic booth at a place where the beer is cheap and the music comes from a speaker, not a DJ. They happen outside in the cold as your friends sweep down the sidewalk like a tiny army causing a small town ruckus. In the height of a collective belly laugh, you and your friends are only one giddy congregation in a sea of millions, but nonetheless it feels as if you are the only people in the world that could have this much breathtaking fun. The belly laugh is jovial, it is euphoric, and it is a better high than I could achieve with any myriad of synthetic substitutes. The guttural belly laugh is, I dare say, the nectar of life. Or, at the very least, the closest thing to “bliss” I can think of.
Upon waking up this morning, I felt dreary. This week has been a trying one, the stress mostly propagated by my own self-sabotage, but none the less it took a few more minutes than usual to rev myself up for the day. As my alarm beeped from under my pillow I had no idea what my Friday would hold and I felt slightly empty, a little bit like a loner in this world of 7.6 billion people. Usually, I am thrilled about a Friday night void of plans! But there was something, after a week of trials and tribulations, about the prospect of a night alone that made me feel sad. I went about my morning, catching the early train for once, and stuck in my headphones in preparation for a long commute ahead. I even nodded to the Jared, my homeless friend who rides the train, with a little less oomph than normal. That’s when, as if sent from the weekend gods, my phone started to buzz and I realized exactly what I need to shake me from my funk. I needed a deep, animalistic, gut-wrenching, ab-defining, scene-making belly laugh.
A belly laugh is what I need tonight and I dare say it looks like a belly laugh is what I am going to get. Now, I’m not insane. Belly laughs certainly can’t be premeditated! They can’t be planned like the perfect date or a trip to the gynecologist. I do believe, however, that they can absolutely be sensed. Just like the smell before a storm, when the clouds are dark blue and the wind sits still, you too can sense the electric crackle of belly laugh anticipation. You can see the stars of the rapidly approaching Friday night slowly aligning as if the perfect evening is inevitable. One part unintentional planning and one part sheer spontaneity, all it takes is a group text activated with a single message: “what are we getting into tonight?” that spirals into a compilations of disjointed jokes and responses forming a mosaic of the evening’s potential; beautiful and chaotic all at once.
Right now, the plans are just forming. There is a rough outline of what my night will hold- some compilation of drinks, food, out of town friends, and a dance floor that is beckoning my name. I don’t want to jinx it, but I think there may also be a boy thrown in, one who I have taken a fancy to over the past few weeks. Nothing is set in stone, we’re all still spit-balling, but I do know one thing for sure – tonight we’re getting lit on endorphins.
I don’t know where, I don’t know how, but this Friday evening I want, no I need, a belly laugh so fierce I will be out of commission for 2-3 minutes while I catch my breath. The feeling of rolling in ecstasy at a perfectly timed joke or sarcastic retort by a friend that feels more like family is what dreams are made of. It is that kind of childlike glee that reminds a person of all the good things in life and the people that make it worth it. It makes us shake in sheer bliss, and this Friday night I think that’s what I need. Tonight, if the evening unfolds as I anticipate, I will laugh in unadulterated euphoria, nearly pulling a muscle in the process. Tonight, I will belly laugh.
And I hope, dear friend, that you do too..
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CallMeVictoria
Life is messy, let's get dirty. itwasvictoria@gmail.com
@callmevictoria
@itwasvictoria
Please update how your night went.
I hope your night ends up on “Worst things that happened this weekend”
Very accurate. I know it sounds cliche and cheesy, but next time you feel like you need a good laugh and you have a few extra bucks, go to The Comedy Store or something. Whether it’s with a couple friends or you roll solo, it’s the closest you can get to planning belly laughter and it’ll brighten up your night.