This past Saturday, I did indeed go to that party at M.U./C.U.'s.
I emailed M.C. to find out his interest in dropping my place for a finger or two of Whiskey before the party.
I've always been a fan of the Pre-Party Cocktail. In college, my 76 N. Congress house served as the location for many of the Pre-Party Cocktail Hour(s). Many times, my bedroom (of three bedroom house) became the epicenter of these nights. CD playing, people lounging on my bed under the red/black tapestry or the floor, and Busch Light bottles scattered among the ashtrays bong books pictures Pertney textbooks laid out around my room. I liked being surrounded by my friends with occasional stranger in such tight quarters, trading stories, flirting, watching A.R. bounce around the house ("Dude, you gotta check this band!), making plans, getting excited for the kegger up the street, the show at The Union, or just more beer a block over at Tony's (the best bar in America, by the way) looking for the wonderful After-Hours.
But, I digress.
I ended up taking the Wild Turkey Bourbon Rare Breed over to M.C.'s where D.H. and B.H. and I played some Medal of Honordeathmatch, ate pizza and such. Somewhere along the lines, we forgot to get beer for the party, so the grand idea of just bring the bottle materialized. Off we went to pick up Mike, M.B. and her attractive friend O. We sat outside on their patio. Anchor Steam Summer Brew, passed my camera around, someone lit a joint for themselves, the park light lit us up casting shadows on our faces, the pleasant night sat quietly and listened.
At M.U/C.U.'s, the lower floor felt like we'd interrupted a private dinner party. The table sat still set, a meal appeared to have been prepared and eaten with some sense of formality. Hellos and introductions. And we went to the upstairs apartment.
A crowd of attractive (indie, artsy type) ladies, nachos, a flaming Smores maker, liquor and beer, most of the boys were musicians. I think four bands were reprazentin' that night. At one point I found myself on the floor discussing plants, and how mine all die. The soundtrack of the evening was great; lots of Bauhaus, New Order, Joy Division, The Cure and the like. Then the third blue plastic cup of Turkey (lots of ice) started kicking in, and I took my customary Wallflower stance in the kitchen with the 3 Z-boys, off to the side, in the conversation, but mind wandering about Space and Parallel Tomorrows.
Then B.H. spanked the perfectly tanned M.U.'s booty with the step-on trash can a couple of times really. Mildly amused, she. T busted the three of us boys scoping out a sexy hipster chick's behind, and then, for our enjoyment, imitated us to embarrassing perfection (nod in fake conversation, glance over, conversation, head point, obvious gawk, then fast nodding of "hot ass" agreement. At the end of the evening, she left with her girlfriend, The Angry Thai Lesbian.
The woman in multi-colored vintage dress I had eyes for turned out to be accompanied by boyfriend. The semi-interesting brunette in black jeans and tank-top who may have had eyes for me had crazy eyes, so I avoided contact. O disappeared for a lengthy time, talking on the deck with the Angry Thai Lesbian. During a tour of the building's apartments, we say the music studio and each apartment's Shower from a Seventies Porno, you could fit like 8 people behind the wall of glass in the basement one. Where is Marilyn Chambers when you need her?
I showed up late for work Sunday.