www.crepitate.wordpress.com

A critic is supposed to remain detached. Formulate an opinion through their own perception that attains an objective position on a performance, restaurant… today everything is reviewed. If you consume three pints of PBR and smoke your share of a joint that runs a slant on your perception.
Drunk and high I stood in the line. You can call me a light-weight if you like, 3 pints of PBR gets me plenty toasty. So I rattled something off about drugs, dunked in conversation about locale, told some stories about old Wisconsin adventures. The man in glasses behind me asked me if I was a drug dealer. “HAHA” I answered.
There was a pale dark haired woman with him. Confidentially, the young man leaned in and said, “Maybe I’ll get a blowjob.”
“HAHA,” I answered.
Maybe he would get a blowjob. She did appear to be salivating. It might even be a good one.
“I met her around the corner,” the gentleman said.
“HAHA”
On other subjects I was eloquent, waxing about drugs taken inner-worlds explored. And we swooped inside. The line moved.
The front room was well populated, the back room was well populated. The familiar sound of techno, the less familiar sounds of dubstep… oh that’s all grand. Music… music…. These people don’t know what to do.
“You got great moves!” a random woman yelled at me.
Drunk and high, more beer now, I yelled back, “Thanks!”
To the back room, crowded, but there’s no trouble in getting space. Scared, no one wants to have a beer spilled on them. My shoes became soaked through. Spilling it out for my homies. There were some tracks played. The music was good.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going over there.”
“Don’t go over there, stay here.”
“See Yah!”
Ah well, there’s music, and some dancing. So incidental.
With a gymnasts body, I danced, taut, tight. She talked into my ear. I talked into her ear. Our breath close on skin. Minute after minute and still the same flirtation. I tried to kiss her and she turned her head. Why did I do that? Oh right… music, beer. Oh shit I spilled some more.
That’s the extent. There really isn’t more to be said. Time went by so quickly that I don’t remember much of anything. But the dancing and the women, and some odd characters.
Incidentally I got the pbr at a party in Bushwick. Great music. All played on manual instruments. Banjo, xylophone, lag guitar, tap shoes… what’s happening to me.