Friday, October 11, 2019

i was up late enough in the afternoon on saturday to get my tickets printed before the library closed, but i spent some time writing, and i got something to eat, so i wasn't out of the house until well after 21:00. i was sure i'd miss the show, which was supposed to be over at 23:00. thankfully, it was only the second act playing when i got there....

so, i got to see prissy whip, which is what i was there to see, and who came on somewhere around 23:30, i think. sort of. they were supposed to have a female singer, who was a no-show. i don't think anybody really knew the details except the band, but the rumour floating around was that it had something to do with a possessive boyfriend. she apparently made it the st. louis show on thursday, according to the footage, so something appears to have happened in that 48 hour space. hey, i don't know; i was just at the show, and she wasn't.

so, we got an instrumental set, instead, and it was actually fairly compelling, as it was. they're operating in a pretty syncopated style of noise rock, so removing the vocals just brought out the percussive aspects of the guitars, which you may or may not recall are technically percussion instruments, in a technical and eurocentric sense (i guess the arabs and indians would have a different take on the whole thing, but they're not me, so  they can figure that out on their own). so, they basically banged out this three part drums-guitar-bass percussion set for a few minutes and then abruptly stopped and that was that.

so, i'm hesitant to post something because it wouldn't really be an accurate representation of what i actually saw. but, you can check them out by googling them. they come recommended heavily by deerhoof, and there's reasons for it, even if it's maybe a little closer to melt banana, overall.

i did check out part of the next set, which was by a band called "pig's blood", but it was just screaming and yelling and breaking things and i don't listen to that kind of shit, so i was just back outside within seconds...

i actually spent a lot of time talking to the people outside that night, who were all 30+, and all felt like they were too old to be there, but in fact were exactly the right age. there actually weren't any kids there, and i'm the only one that seems to have actually got their head around this a long time ago: there haven't been any kids at any spaces like this in a long time, now. these kinds of shows are often 40+, let alone 30+. i'm ok with that; i don't want to hang out with kids in their 20s, anyways. but, it seemed to be the first time it clicked for some of these guys.

i also want to make a general point about my social skills when i'm drinking. yes - i'm friendly (in a good way) when i'm drunk. i talk to girls, and i talk to boys, and i talk to people in between, and i don't tend to really think much of it. i didn't used to be this friendly or this confident, though; i didn't used to have the nerve to just stumble into a group of random people of whatever gender and start talking to them, no matter how drunk i was. rather, i used to be a quiet, distant drunk that would sit in the corner and avoid eye contact and only speak meekly when spoken to. so, my confidence is a function of the transition; it wasn't there before, and it won't be there anymore if you take it away. that is, in fact, one of the medical cases for doing it - it gives people better social skills, because they feel more comfortable in their outward presentations. that's one of the things about this that people tend to have a hard time with, because i guess i just come off as having a bit of a swagger sometimes (which is a misinterpretation of the reality).

the actual truth is that i'm actually completely asexual and completely disinterested in romance, and while i do understand that this maybe isn't always as clear as i assume it should be, that doesn't change the truth of it, and shouldn't affect how i'm behaving.

so, i'm talking to what i presume to be a cisfemale about alcohol/caffeine mixtures, mountain dew and rockstar vodka, and she gets bored and walks off when i point out that i don't watch tv, 'cause i guess that had something to do with her perspective on mountain dew. i have heard something about a boycott, but i actually haven't looked into it, and i don't know what it's really about. i don't think i've ever seen a mountain dew commercial, ever. i legitimately didn't ask for her name and don't know it, and don't even actually even care, but am happy to wish her a goodnight, regardless - i'm just about to get up and leave, myself; this is just stage one of a long weekend, for me. this kind of random conversation is something that happens at least a few times for me, every weekend, in detroit - it's nothing special, nothing unusual. but, i look up and there's a dude grinning ear-to-ear on the bench.

"i didn't want to interrupt the conversation, but...."

the implication is clear enough, but it's completely wrong, and as mentioned, i've been through it before. but, i grasp that it's a hard thing to get your head around - you don't see somebody that feels confident in a female identity and is just having a girl-to-girl conversation about beverages, you see a confident guy with an array of pick-up lines that seems to be working, and are impressed by it and feel the need to comment on it. and, maybe you're tickled by the irony of it, given that you might have it in the back of your mind that you'd like to fuck me. but, you're wrong, dammit. every time...

i'm always just looking to hang out, and i'm sorry if i come off as friendly, but you gotta adjust, 'cause i'm not going to tone it down.

anyways..

after i realized the nature of the last band, i decided that i'd finish my spiked lemonade and go ahead on to the club when it was down to a few sips, or mostly done. and, as it was, i was in the process of leaving relatively soon, when somebody handed me a 40 of vodka, and i think you want to imagine a morricone-esque voiceover here, dry and somewhat chapped, just because.

"i don't want it, man. take what you want. i'm done."

we weren't actually in the desert, and the sun wasn't actually beating down (although the weather was pleasant), and he didn't actually spit after he told me to take what i want, and he didn't actually stumble off into the distance, but that is all secondary to the 40 of vodka i've been handed and instructed to do as i will with.

my bottle of mountain dew - 710 ml, or 24 oz - was down to the last fifth or so, at that point. i didn't fill it up, exactly, but i did take a fair amount.

so, i ended up at the club a little bit later and a little bit drunker than i intended to. i am often accused of being drunk when i'm actually not; on saturday, such accusations would have had merit, although i don't actually recall hearing them, which perhaps merely stresses the point.

i remember asking somebody what time it was when i got in. it was 1:15. early enough..

and, i remember quickly buying several drinks. i broke a five, broke a ten, broke the five i got back from the ten and then handed over three crumpled 1's - i remember all of this. did the drum and bass set play late? it seemed that way...

then it's a little blurry. until....

"you can't sleep at the club".

so, i jumped up, checked my pockets. i didn't immediately remember opening my second pack of smokes, and i thought i had an extra three dollars. i felt ok, though. so, i bought another beer and went back to dancing. we're clear, memory-wise, from here until i got to the diner...

what happened? well, you tell me, right. but, i can deduce a few things.

i found my cigarette pack a little later in my other back pocket and was initially confused about it. it had been ripped open the wrong way (from the bottom of the pack) and was half missing, almost as though it got cut up for filter. i was initially kind of baffled by that, but i now actually remember lighting a few cigarettes backwards, taking a few tries to figure it out, and then making an adjustment around it. so, i very specifically recall taking smokes out of my back pocket and flipping them around before i lit them - five or ten times, at least. that's what would happen if you rip your pack open from the bottom. i guess i gave a bunch away, but i do recall smoking out of the pack, on second thought.

in fact, i remember the smell of burning filter, and remember stomping them out, as though they were defective, and the next one would be better, just to have the same thing happen. there must have been a stash of five-ten wasted cigarettes out there, lit from the filter, and otherwise unsmoked.

i actually have a habit of smoking cigarettes backwards when i'm drunk, and only do it when i'm drunk. that's an idiosyncratic giveaway. if you ever see me do this, you know i'm drunk...

i know i was out in the back area when i was pulling the smokes out of my pocket. i wasn't asking around, but that takes me pretty late in the morning.

so, i must have sat down around 5:00-5:30 and nodded off for a few minutes, before somebody woke me up.

as it is, i know i enjoyed dancing to the drum and bass set through the night and through the course of at least the first four beers. i remember thinking "the set is going to end soon", and then it not ending, and kind of putting off having that smoke until it did. the music was good, and the dancing was good, so i kept with it, and avoided going off for that smoke a little longer than i normally would have - a sign i was having fun. and, maybe, the more i think about it, the more i remember buying that fifth beer. maybe? i'm sure i did, anyways...

as mentioned, the sixth beer happened after the nod, and i was able to spend the last hours of the set dancing, as the sun came up - which is the actual point of this sordid exercise. whatever experience i had with that vodka and those cigarettes earlier, i do remember dancing at sunrise. so, i'd argue it was worth it.

of course, it's my fault. i poured it. i drank it. but, i can promise you i'll do the same thing next time, if you give me a 40 of vodka and tell me to have at it, and i don't feel any particular shame about it, either. hey, i don't pretend i'm responsible; i have no responsibility to be responsible. rather, the operative question is this: how often do you get handed a 40 by a stranger and told to go to town with it? so, shouldn't you take advantage of the situation, because it's rare? if it happens again, i'll do the same thing, but what are the chances, right?

the set was done a little early, and the weather was warmer than expected, so i'm outside at roughly 9:00 with some people i think i've partied with before, and they want to roll a joint, but need to get into a car, because they're tired, themselves. so, before i know it, i'm in the car with them. and they're driving....

the driver claims he knows an after hours spot. dude, it's 9:00. you were at the after hours spot. but, we're nonetheless off for a spin, to find an empty spot (of course), before heading back to the bar. but, the puff was well received, just right then.

the audio guys are finishing up, and i had to ask them for a smoke, because i was actually out (or had otherwise destroyed my own pack). so, i'm having a smoke outside the bar when it starts raining, and it passes fairly quick.

"you don't think you're coming back in?", he says. and, this is the only suggestion i received that i may have been a little wilder than i recall...

but, i didn't want to come back in.

"you were on edibles last weekend, you said?"

it was the week before, actually. but, did i tell him that? or did he read it?

well, maybe he can read this, too.

i got to the diner around 10:00, and we'll start a new review for sunday.