Last weekend was full of theatrics, tears in alleyways, bruised ego’s, unrelenting Jager shots and the birthdays of two of my close friends. So we danced and got messy and played music really fucking loud.
Going out this Thursday was no different. I decided to go for that American Apparel sleeze look with a man’s tanktop over some shiny leggings. I am so fucking original. Went to the Drake (for my second time ever! i am still that pure) to see The Bug and Warrior Queen. Immigration lead the woman back to her home and gave us Flowdan instead. The opener, some dude representing Ninja Tune in Montreal played a shameful set sans actually mixing, of dancehall… on Serato! Yes, dancehall on Serato. Ninja Tune praises itself on having a roster of serious DJ’s and they give us this drone? Didn’t mix one tune and was using Serato. If you’re going to bust out dancehall, you need to do it with the real deal. It was embarrasing. I had to drink. Some friend’s found out that the friend I was rolling with had chach and so they all tried to impart their wisdom about how “it’s so boring.” “don’t do it. i just did some and now i’m so tired.” “i’m so done with that stuff, it’s so useless.” It was amusing to me, because a. i barely do that shit b. they’re both into it. I enjoyed the drunken worry. In the bathroom. Quickly. I had to. The Bug gets on. Complete wreck. Plays some tunes I enjoy, but is so inconsistent. Fucks with his levels too much. Flowdan comes on. Mosh pit ensues. I start thrashing around my body. Go do more. I try to remember the complete euphoria of Kode 9′s set in Montreal in May. Focus. Can’t. Flowdan announces last song, I already know what it’s gonna be. I start screaming and pounding my fists on the stage. It comes on. I’m finally getting what I came for. Too bad it’s some shitty remix, but I keep focus. I need something. It’s over.
I run into one of the dude’s that’s the cause of all the drama I wrote about in my last entry. I confront him. He makes up some bullshit. Attempts diplomacy but I can see right through it. I’m feeling hostile. “C’mon. Just stop it already,” I tell him. He refuses to acknowledge his hate-on for me. He refuses to acknowledge anything. “We’re all vying for the same thing here. We want good music for our city.” I can’t believe he’s feeding me all this. We get interrupted by another friend of mine who wants to dance. I go dance with him a bit, then get dragged out. We walk to the Pizza Pizza because Dare‘s there. I knock on the glass with marked haste. Some poor Abercrombie & Fitch model is sitting near the window alone eating fries and gives me cut eye. I start dancing around and making faces at him. I’m feeling totally high school right now. We’re hanging out high on a Thursday night in front of a pizza joint. It calls for it. Angry faces come back at me. Darren comes out, “Dude is really pissed off.” So I make more faces. Jon says, “I’m still hungry. I really want a fry. Get me one.” I agree and go inside to get a fry from model dude. “Hey man, I wasn’t trying to diss you. I just wanted to get my friend.” He nods and gives up a fry when I ask. At this point, anything childish will keep us entertained.
Some guido walks by and yells, “Flash me for 20 bucks.”
“Fuck off.” I yell back.
“Fine. I’ll flash you for 20 bucks.”
“Ok there buddy.” Dare says.
Buddy responds, “I know you’re gay but I’m not.”
I give a look, “Whhhhhhhat?” and slap him across the face. Buddy can’t believe it. “Yo, I just got bitch-slapped by a chick. What the fuck?” A whole riot of cuss words ensues. He tries to understand what happened. “I don’t care for homophobia. So go fuck off.” I say my last words to him. Sham gets in his face, “You’re gonna get bitch-slapped at some point so it might as well have been now.”
Buddy’s friend comes over trying, “You did the right thing girl. He deserved it.”
More 3am wild chatter. I try to undermine the whole situation because I start to get awkward with all the attention on me by all the others and intermittently cover my face – hiding.
I held this off for a few days, because looking back at the situation, I grimace. What was I thinking? It’s the dog days of summer, really.