Disco's Dead and so are you

Not that much to report in the life of Matt.

Still really busy with school and work, still hate my part time job, still Straightedge (I even wear the posery X's. Although only to school), still having computer trouble (If anyone's keeping track, my power supply burnt out twice, my video card had to be replaced, I've had to reformat several times, windows stopped working, and I've had modem/internet trouble. A lot.).

A while ago I met this really awesome girl at school, and we hung out for a bit. She ended up asking me for my e-mail, and we went grocery shopping (no that's not a euphonism)

At the time I thought she was really cool, she liked the beat poets, she was also a graphic design student, and she had the tips of her black curly hair dyed green. You know I'm a sucker for stuff like that.

Any way, in the process of trying to get to know her better she sort of freaked out on me, so that didn't work out so great. So I'm still looking for that special someone I guess. Preferably a punk rock chick who likes comic books and anime and beat poets and is funny and smart. Not that I'm picky...

Given that valentine's, last bastion of the greeting card/chocolates in heart shaped boxes industry, is once again around the corner I thought it would be apt to share that. I'll have a very special Valentines day post prepared for the day in question.

Moving on....
I went to a party awhile ago, it was supposed to be a fundraiser for the third year graphic design students vernisage. I figured it would be a great chance to meet the other people in my program. It wasn't. Let me tell you why this party, as well as virtually every other club event sucks.

First off, in this case (and in many others) the promo stuff misleads you. The tickets for this thing (which cost me 8 bucks incidently) specifically say Exhibition of the Graphic Design Graduates. Yet there were no artworks on display at the actual event, which really sucked.

Now to be fair, as you might have guessed, I'm more of a rock and roll kind of guy, so i mainly go to rock shows (when I have the cash, which is unfortunately rarely these days), so clubbing isn't really my scene. But i figured, since people from my program were gonna be there, it might be okay. I was wrong. So very wrong....shudder....

I get to this club, which is about 30 minutes away from where I live by bus, and I see these three bouncers standing outside this crappy faux studio 54 rope barrier thing. So I go up and show them my ticket. The guy looks at me and says: "I'm sorry I can't let you in." I say "I'm sorry? Why not?" He says "You're not dressed right, you have to wear nicer clothes" Now, let me stop right here and say that I fully acknowledge that I'm no fashion plate. I was however, wearing my new camo pants, one of my favourite T-shirts, and my favourite running shoes, none of which were dirty or old looking. I lot I looked pretty damn good. So I said "Are you serious?" He says "Yeah, you need better clothes." Now I'm pissed. "Such as?" I say barely containing the anger in my voice. He says "Just nicer street clothes" I was about to tell him just exactly where he could go, but then he looks at my ticket and says "Oh wait, are you with that Dawson thing?" I nod. He Says "Okay, you can go in. This time." So I halfheartedly follow the other bouncer up the stairs. The other bouncer is a 6 foot 5 black guy who tells me to spread my arms so he can pat me down. At this point I'm getting really pissed and beginning to feel a distinct lack of confidence in this evening turning out to be a good time. But I obediently succumb to the search. The guy get's to my keys, and says "What you got here? A knife?" To which I reply, "Well, those are my keys, but there's a swiss army knife attached to them" He says "You can't bring that in here. Leave it in your car." I say "I came here by bus." Then i add "You need it?" He begrudingly agrees. So I leave him my dangerous toothpick and corkscrew equipped weapon, after being assured I could retrieve it later. I then make my way to the stairs that lead up to the main club area. Two more bouncers inform I need to check my light fall jacket, which is more like a sweater than anything else. So I go to check my "coat" at which point I'm informed it costs 2.50. So I go upstairs and take out twenty bucks. (which incidently also cost 2.50) I tip the coat check girl 2.50 and go up to the main floor.

After all that bullshit, I arrive to find the club not only extremely dark and very small, but just about completely empty. Now keep in mind that the third years who set this thing up were supposed to come early to, well you know, be there. Keep in mind also, that it's already close to 11, and I gotta catch the last bus at 1:00 am. So unless people start showing up soon that's not a whole lot of time to "party".

Anyway, I look the club over, it's only slightly bigger than my appartment, which aint that big. There's a bar on both sides, a really small "private booth" section, a "dance floor" which is the crappiest I've seen in quite some time. Not that I club a whole lot, like I said I usually go to rock shows (which by the way never gave me any shit about how I dress, nor did they ever pad me down, despite the supposedly violent nature of the punk and hardcore scene) so it's not like I'm an expert, but I know a dive when I see one. And I don't mean in the quaint, street kinda way. This place was pretentious AND crappy, a turd covered in gold paint.

The super awesome dj was playing some sort of horrible radio friendly "hip hop/dance music/r and b" mish mosh that was so cliche it made MC Hammer's music seem cutting edge. I mean I like hip hop, I love Blackalicious, Wyclef, The Roots, A Tribe Called Quest, K-OS, LA Symphony, stuff like that, but all the gangster rap/cheesy self promoting, superficial stuff that gets oh so much play time just makes me wanna hurt people. That being said, even in that style of music, there are at least some decent songs to be played, songs that might not be the best content wise, but that at least sound good. This DJ had never heard of these songs. This DJ, I suspect, had never heard of a lot of songs. This DJ played two Mariah Carey songs. In the space of an hour.

Horrible music not withstanding, I decided to wait for a bit to see if anyone else showed up. I'd ordered two cokes and was just about to leave when a few people from my program did. So I hung out with them for a bit, we all sort of agreed that this club and this particular party where both less than spectacular. Eventually the girls I was with decided to take off to find another club. I figured, sure what the hell, not realizing it was already 12:30. So I go down and grab my coat, remarking to the coat check girl about the quality of my experience in the club. She smiles politely and says "Yeah". Then I go see the bouncer about my knife. He hands it back saying "Now you know what to do for next time?" I say "There aint gonna be a next time. This really aint my scene man."

Then I walk out and pass by the other bouncer, the one who wasn't gonna let me in. I quip "Best 8 bucks I ever spent" Not sure if he got that I was being sardonic. Anyway, I take a seat on the bench and wait for the girls to come out. Usually I'm not into those kinda ego trips, but it was nice seeing the look on the guys face as I left with them. There wasn't really all that much to it, but let the guy think what he wants to think, he was a jerk anyways.

So I follow the girls to this other club, thinking that it's relatively close by. Turns out it's across town. So five subway stops later, as we're waiting in line, I ask them how they're getting home. They all sort of shrug. Then it dawns on me to ask what time it was. They tell me, and I briefly toy with the idea of going to the club anyways and catching a cab home. I decide that's not the plan, so I run back to the station, catch the subway back to about 4 blocks from the bus stop, and run like hell. I get there about 4 minutes before the last bus of the night is supposed to be taking off, out of breath but glad I don't hafta take a cab home.

All in all it was a pretty shitty night, and it reaffirmed my utter lack of interested in the club scene. Give me a party at someone's place or a rock show any day, at least then if you meet new people you can actually get to talk to them, and/or people are there to have fun, not so they can get into someone's pants.

I was so turned off by the whole thing that I wrote a poem about it.
I'll post it later.