Since I turned 20 last weekend and stole a hotel room, I felt like I have been on a really long acid trip. Tonight’s escapades only confirmed this feeling. After waking up at 12 pm with a hangover I can only blame on my first OK Cupid date(s)…yes, I back to backed…I did my usual deal, went to class, felt sorry for myself, and drank a lot of coffee. But the minute I left the prison I call college I had to have slipped down a rabbit hole.
One of my good friends from touring was in the city today with none other than the Hot Topic rockrapcore legends Deuce from Hollywood Undead, Brokencyde, Blood On the Dancefloor, and a few other unmentionables (see videos below). Despite the fact that I am as into rockrapcore (yes, that is a genre) as I am into tentacle porn I love my friends and do everything I can to spend time with them especially if they are touring pals that I see once every never. So, of course, we headed to Times Square for everyone’s touristy itch and popped into Jimmy’s Corner for a drink. Jimmy’s Corner is a hole in the wall midtown bar that I just thought was creepy. Turns out Jimmy, the owner was actually Mohammad Ali’s trainer, and upon a closer look had his bar decked floor to ceiling with the most incredible celebrity candids including a snapshot of Michael Jordan and Michael Jackson holdin’ it down…um what?
Within 20 minutes of being at Jimmy’s Corner, we somehow ran into part of Brokencyde (I feel so weird typing this), and as a crew of 10 people I convinced everyone to come to my Monday night hang out, Don Pedro’s in Brooklyn for the season finale of Ru Paul’s Drag Race, complete with 3 live drag performances. Again…um what? This weak’s episode was a drag (all puns intended), but I was able to witness 6 men see cross dressers in their natural habitat for the first time in their lives and none of them felt compelled to call anyone a “faggot”. People that have a coalition of mothers rallying against them were able to keep their cool.
After a good two hours of fishy fun, we left for one of Brooklyn’s finest metal bars, St. Vitus, only to be whisked out within less than an hour by tweets about REFUSED playing a secret show in Bushwick. While I’m not going to sit around and act like I’ve been listening to punk since I was in diapers or know any Refused song besides the one that was definitely in a video game soundtrack, I knew this was important and D-Bo and I *had* to go. So off we went in a gypsy cab to The Archeron for the show everyone that’s spent $40 on tickets for the Terminal 5 or summer tour shows would give their first born to see.
Beginning sharply at 1am, only the first 200 of us were shoved into a living room sized venue that I’ve seen ex boyfriends’ bands play at, all whilst dodging
kids grown ass men that had been crowd surfing since the first chord was struck. A more than memorable set looked, felt, and smelled like everything you’d ever wanted from a legendary punk show, and reaffirmed my liking for punk and hardcore, by reminding me that music I care about makes me feel good, and makes it more than ok to get really fucking weird.
Now…to get ready for my final presentation in International Marketing.