Because some of you may not be of legal tender or economic efficiency to have seen Ghostface Killah perform at Metro City, i come bearing gifts. I was lucky enough to see his show last night and i'm about to go to the trouble of constructing a breakdown (is that an oxymoron? i still don't know what an oxymoron is) of a typical night in the life of a Metro City patron.
On the eve of the performance, download as much Ghostface Killah as possible. I'm talking albums, mixtapes, b-sides, collaborations and unreleased material so that when it comes to the performance itself, your lip-synching is up to scratch and your peers are completely aware of your knowledge of the artist. You want to be rapping your ass off should Ghostface chance a glance in your direction.
For the pre-celebrations, don't drink any alcohol for several months beforehand and then consume shitloads of beer and drinks originating from Manhattan and/or Staten Island. Rename them 'Manstatens' and high five the shit out of your friends for your spoken genius. Be sure to embrace your youth as the alcohol takes effect a couple of hours before you expected and begin doubting your ability to speak and walk upright. Smoke about eighty cigarettes.
Arrive at the venue and forget any form of i.d. This is essential if you want to fuck up your evening and the evenings of anyone in your proximity early in the night. Fucking bouncers. Those guys were the worst. I know you're a bouncer at Metro City and you've probably seen your fair share of stabbings and routine police identification checks but c'mon, i just wanted to see Ghostface and your face resembled a hurdle that i wanted to kick over. Have your other friend who is clearly over legal club attending tender forget his i.d as well and explain to the bouncers that he has envelopes full of money to give to the promoter of the event and that it's imperative he receives it. The bouncers should start to get a little hot-headed at this point in time due to not being able to calculate the concept of important envelopes full of money for the promoter of the show. You can normally tell a bouncer is angry when he looks at you as oppposed to just straight ahead.
Drive back home to get your i.d. and contemplate staying there. Realise that sitting home drunk by yourself is something to be saved for the twilight years and exit the house. Listen to excessively ignorant rap music really loudly on the way back and heartily laugh out loud at all the suckers that are getting caught for drink driving. Don't they know that it's illegal?
When you get back to the concert, drink in the parking lot for five minutes and receive express post hatred from various ethnicities who just want to hang out in the parking lot with their totally hot cars and not be interrupted by some white kid whose dress sense resembles that of someone who isn't white. Briskly walk past them and imagine all the crazy scenarios in which you could own them to stay focused on your goal.
When you get back to the entrance, make sure you show your i.d to the bouncer that refused you the first time. This is important because if you show it to anyone else, no-one gets owned and the whole driving back home thing was pretty much for nothing. When you get into the venue look straight ahead to avoid provoking the various sub-cultures walking around the venue. This is when things start to get real good. Pick a spot at the bar where all your homies are at and take note of your surroundings.
Homies? Check.
Alcohol? Check.
Uninterested bar staff? Double check!
Group of youths gnawing their own faces off and ready to beat the shit out of eachother at the drop of a hat? Priceless.
So i'm at the bar and of course, fight one breaks out. Something about a tag in the second cubicle of the Oats Street station toilets that got lined out the other day, you know, politics and all that. Have your newly poured beer spilt all over your newly applied clothing and contemplate newly applying a cheeky elbow in the direction of the scuffle. I say scuffle because no one fights these days, they just jump around saying "C'mon! C'mon! What? C'mon!" until the bouncers show up and destroy everyone in sight whilst looking straight ahead the whole time.
Take sips from your remaining beer and restrain the urge to leave the venue because you get pissed off really easily and getting beer spilt all over you by some lobbed up teens wasn't mentioned on the ticket or at the door and was therefore, unappreciated.
Buy beer number two but this time, don't even have a sip from it. Make sure another fight breaks out involving a different group of gentlemen, some of whom you know, and just straight give up on the prospect of ever being able to drink a beer at the venue in question. Let the leader of the Gentlemen's club know that you're appalled by their behaviour and jokingly request the replacement of any forfeited beverages during the disagreement. He'll not only buy you a beer, but he'll smash a couple of shooters with you for your troubles.
The rest of the night is going to be far too laborious to complete in this format but i can definitely tell you that it was a good night from that point onwards. Seeing Ghostface in person really was something else. His presence was completely unfuckwithable, he covered the stage well and was able to singlehandedly make up for the fact that the sound was absolute balls, a feat considered impossible by anyone that has ever played at Metro City. I saw a-lot of people that i haven't seen for a while and probably spent more time letting the alcohol talk for me and smoking darts than i did throwing my W's up.
All of my friends just left the house to get a normal breakfast at a normal cafe but i didn't go because i'm saving myself for Yum Cha later on.
They only have themselves to blame as well. You think i'm going to sit down and eat toast and bacon this weekend after we had tray upon tray of exotic steamed delicacies rushing past our table last weekend?
I'll go by myself as well, i straight don't give a shit like that.
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3 comments:
This post is better than actually going to the gig.
I wish you weren't right.
This particular post made me smirk a little. I like the style in which you write.
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