It’s 4AM. Today, I worked in the studio all afternoon, then worked at the Oxford Theatre all evening, then went over to the Marquee and worked from 11:30PM until a few minutes ago. I’d just had a week off from the club and I think I want to take another week off. The place has gotten noticeably sleazier in the past two or three months. There’s this whole coked-out vibe that’s getting a little out of hand.
Tonight was drum&bass night, downstairs in Hell’s Kitchen. A couple of wack MCs were on the mic annoying the piss out of everybody. A bunch of people were crowding up on the stage; I asked a bouncer to clear them off, but he did a pretty lousy job of it. It’s almost like he just gave up. Two minutes later violence broke out. Some guy smashed a bottle and cut a couple people in the face. The music stopped and suddenly there were bouncers everywhere. I was up there just trying to watch out for all the gear. Then the cops showed up and an ambulance and blah blah blah.
The DJ said, “Man, this is too intense, I’m gonna switch to house music.” So he broke out the party tracks. A few people resumed dancing but I think the blood all over the DJ’s shirt was enough to cool the vibe.
What a shitty night. Working at the Marquee is making me into a very anti-social person. I’ve decided that I’m going to get my driver’s license and then next spring I’m moving back to New Brunswick. I’m going to live with my grandmother in the middle of nowhere. She has a big old house–I’ll turn one of the rooms into a recording studio. Get away from everything. It’s a dream I’ve had for a while. I miss my grandmother. I can joke about being “old” at 31, but tomorrow–today–is her 91st birthday. And she’s still rockin’.
I have to get up to work again in four hours.
I was leaving the bar tonight, finally… came around the corner to get my bicycle. My bike had fallen down, as bikes chained to things tend to do, and was slumped on the sidewalk.
“Aww, Jennifer!” I blurted out. I ran over and picked her up. “That’s no way to treat a lady.”
Two girls were standing nearby. “Okay, this is getting too weird, I’m getting out of here.” She started walking away. “That guy just said your name.”
I looked around. “What, is your name Jennifer?”
“Yes it is,” said the other girl.
“Jennifer is my bicycle’s name,” I explained. “I think Jennifer is a lovely name.”
“Well I’m glad somebody thinks so,” she said. She smiled and shook my hand.
“Philip,” I said. “You have a good night, Jennifer.”