Things were going well at first...the night started out with a show by
The Brazilian Girls at Club Metro. The singer, Sabina Sciubba, was dressed in an Elvis Presley silver jumpsuit, very tight. From my vantage point almost at the back of the crowd...fuck, from anywhere in the room, the singers body...her sound...electrifying. There were 8 of us,
me and A. a female D & B DJ, C.L., the crazy, but prodigiously talented local promoter, S.S., the fiery, seductive poet, A., the promiscuous model from Bejing, China, A., the jaded former club owner, O., the horny metro-sexual, and V., the pouting, sultry vamp from the 'burbs. After the show ended, we, hesitantly at first, headed down to the Smart Bar.
The crowd was dancing, sweating, shaking...bodies intertwined....hearts pulsating to the beats of Miles Meada. Three drinks later, somebody threw a punch and all hell broke loose....(more later).
After that debacle, we headed over to the Sound Bar, then Vision, then to Red No Five...drinks in each bar..things got absolutely out of control, ridiculous...I still can't remember her name...C.L. acted like a fucking madman...recovering form a serious hangover....It's Sunday, vegging out, S.S. sleeping on the couch, for over 16 hours now...sleeping straight through the day to another darkness...glad tomorrow is President's Day. I still have to get up and get on my hustle, though...I don't work for the Man....gotta provide my own opportunities....