The Book of Crispy

A night out, finally 11:01AM

I finally managed to get to a house night on Saturday.

The night started medium, at the Pitcher and Piano (where I saw a Steve Webb look-alike). Music was pumping, a bit cheesy, but still ok. After a few hours though, it got worse when everyone had coupled up, and the music was now Elvis. I was ready to go home when Susan's boyfriend (english amatuer dj) sugggested ""Whistlebump"" a few blocks away. It was hidden down a back street and unlabelled. There were two doors, one went to a goth heavy metal party with an obvious dress code of piercings and black. The second door was more chilled and inside was the soulful sounds of DJ Deep. Had a wicked time. The sounds were good and the bass pumped through me. My escorts had become lifeless and useless now, but that didn't matter. I could have been there on my own and not cared. The building is normally indoor paintball, so the interior was very industrial and all surfaces painted black. I am on the mailing list now.

Guess who just appeared out of the blue? I've already told you. It was Susan Percy, who I haven't had any contact with since she left NZ three years ago. Bumped into her on the street in Angel.

Sick day today. I had a cold when I went out on Sat. Now it is a more hardcore throat thing. My hearing still isn't right from the eardrum destroy low fi sound of Pitcher and Piano (henceforth referred to as P & P (but perhaps I won't ever have to refer to it again (yeah right, and that's what I say about the walkabout too))).

over and out