Friday night I ventured over to Kings Cross because of the amazing good fortune of two bands I like, both I confess with friends in them, were playing one after the other in the same venue.
And at first it seemed great, for a mere ten bucks I got a teapot filled with Long Island Iced Tea, there were heaps of familiar faces in attendance, all going very well. So I had another teapot. My housemate didn't like her teapot so I finished that off. Somewhere between the second and third teapots T, one of my sixteen personal enemies showed up. Happily I was sitting on some low cube thing and was the first to notice her pants were unzipped. Nice.
I whispered to Spencer Oh, here's one of my sixteen personal enemies. He crouched low in front of my cube, counting off my known enemies on his fingers, I could only think of two. I cannot speak the comfort offered when I said oh, and D & P and Spencer nodded slowly and said Of course, they definitely deserve to be there. You've got twelve to go! He smiled indulgently, the bastard likes to tease me, I was taking the remembering of personal enemies very seriously, might have had something to do with the teapots, and was getting flustered when I couldn't think of anymore. Spencer just laughed.
Between bands I threaded through the crowd and upstairs to the toilets, T was in there with two of her cronies skulling red wine from a bottle. In the spirit of fake friendliness I struck up a conversation with them and introduced myself to the one I didn't know. She said Oh, I know who you are, you're. Then she stopped with the first syllable of Artboy's name in her mouth. She said I'm Artboy's new flatmate's sister. Oh, I said, nice to meet you. The way she looked at me. I could have shot her. I think it was pity on her face, but I can't be sure. I can't wait for the day when the ghost of Artboy stops following me everywhere I go.
Back downstairs the crowd was unbelievable. I ended up squashed against a half wall overlooking the area in front of the stage. There was a man there. A man with awesome hair and and some sort of giant camera with which he was not taking photographs. He looked like a man with a heart and a brain and a soul. The place was full of my kind of people but all I did was stand and dance and watch transfixed as Spencer transformed into a rock star. I don't know how he does it. The second he steps on stage no one can take their eyes off him. One day I might meet some of these people who come to see the other Spencer, the stage Spencer. One day I might talk with them, click with one of them, but I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. I'm still looking over my shoulder, scared by the ghost of Artboy, I'm still letting people test the truth of my loss by putting their hand in the hole in my side.
The bands
The Holy Soul
Belles Will Ring
And at first it seemed great, for a mere ten bucks I got a teapot filled with Long Island Iced Tea, there were heaps of familiar faces in attendance, all going very well. So I had another teapot. My housemate didn't like her teapot so I finished that off. Somewhere between the second and third teapots T, one of my sixteen personal enemies showed up. Happily I was sitting on some low cube thing and was the first to notice her pants were unzipped. Nice.
I whispered to Spencer Oh, here's one of my sixteen personal enemies. He crouched low in front of my cube, counting off my known enemies on his fingers, I could only think of two. I cannot speak the comfort offered when I said oh, and D & P and Spencer nodded slowly and said Of course, they definitely deserve to be there. You've got twelve to go! He smiled indulgently, the bastard likes to tease me, I was taking the remembering of personal enemies very seriously, might have had something to do with the teapots, and was getting flustered when I couldn't think of anymore. Spencer just laughed.
Between bands I threaded through the crowd and upstairs to the toilets, T was in there with two of her cronies skulling red wine from a bottle. In the spirit of fake friendliness I struck up a conversation with them and introduced myself to the one I didn't know. She said Oh, I know who you are, you're. Then she stopped with the first syllable of Artboy's name in her mouth. She said I'm Artboy's new flatmate's sister. Oh, I said, nice to meet you. The way she looked at me. I could have shot her. I think it was pity on her face, but I can't be sure. I can't wait for the day when the ghost of Artboy stops following me everywhere I go.
Back downstairs the crowd was unbelievable. I ended up squashed against a half wall overlooking the area in front of the stage. There was a man there. A man with awesome hair and and some sort of giant camera with which he was not taking photographs. He looked like a man with a heart and a brain and a soul. The place was full of my kind of people but all I did was stand and dance and watch transfixed as Spencer transformed into a rock star. I don't know how he does it. The second he steps on stage no one can take their eyes off him. One day I might meet some of these people who come to see the other Spencer, the stage Spencer. One day I might talk with them, click with one of them, but I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. I'm still looking over my shoulder, scared by the ghost of Artboy, I'm still letting people test the truth of my loss by putting their hand in the hole in my side.
The bands
The Holy Soul
Belles Will Ring
Comments