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Stranger - Our Resident bleeding heart poseur and Tripitaka impersonator tries his hand at writing something other than 'What is Goth?' debating and Good Ol' Days reminiscence. Will hopefully improve with practice
Now this was more like it.
After so many nights of shitty modern music, he had almost forgotten how good it was to hear the old stuff in a setting like this.
He looked around the dark, smoky room, watching the pale folk in black whirl and dip to the familiar melodies and knew that all was well with the world. Just for once, he didn't feel like he was out of touch with those around him. At this moment, there was no compromise, nothing that seemed wrong or out of place.
He was home.
He had hoped that this "old favourites" night would afford him a respite from the repetitive modern music that he usually didn't mind but had become quite bored with of late. He didn't know how long it would last, but this was just what he needed to hear tonight. It was a pity Simone was still overseas - she would have enjoyed it too.
"I live for the burn and the sting of pleasure.."
Peering through the smoke, he noticed that there was also not a white t-shirt or denim jacket in sight. It seemed the old music was even driving away the bogans that usually wandered down to perve at the sexy death chicks. He didn't like to feel like a snob, but the yobs here were in a class of their own. Just for now, it was nice not to have to share.
It was fairly early, and the crowd was still small. The smoke-filled floor was taken up with dancers in various shades of black making the most of the elbow room that would later be reduced to shuffling space.
In one corner of the floor was group of somewhat conservative looking guys, dancing extravagantly in long black coats. There was nothing concrete he could put a finger on, but something clearly marked them out as role players, a species unknown in his old days. They were obviously as enthused about the music as he was, so as far as he was concerned they were his kin. (Or should that be Kindred?)
You got all sorts in this scene - that was part of why he loved it.
"Desire burns, beyond good and evil.."
He scanned the crowd for people he knew, surprised to find not one. In fact, there didn't seem to be a person here who he even vaguely recognised, which was unusual. Since he'd started going out again, he'd come to recognise a number of faces who seemed to decorate every club or night he went to. But tonight everyone was a stranger to him, which he didn't mind at all. He didn't feel the need to socialise tonight. He felt like being a watcher.
"The spirit is willing and
the flesh is craved
He remembered the first time he had come here, almost two years ago, on Halloween no less. From the first moment it struck him as his sort of place, an impression which hadn't changed. While he didn't like everything they played here, he could always depend on hearing a decent amount of good music through the night. And if he did hear something he didn't like, a quick toilet break and a wander of the back room would be long enough for the style to have changed again to something more to his taste.
Of course that also meant that this old-school theme would have to end, but while it lasted he was happy to reminisce.
As if on cue, the tempo changed and another, far too familiar rhythm filled the room. Almost instantly, the room was also filled with rednecks, either swaying drunkenly on the dance floor or checking out the remaining black clad girls (who, as always, seemed to suddenly begin dancing like strippers once this song came on). Michael smiled as he remembered an interview in which this singer joked that this song had made his work into "music for titty-bars". He also wondered where the hell these bogans had come from so quickly.
He swigged the last drops from his now warm bottle of beer and wondered whether to shell out the ridiculous price for another. He remembered that they had beer on tap at a reasonable price up on the bogan - sorry - "indie" floor above. Normally he kept away from that floor and headed straight down to the lower level where the sarky comments were less frequent, but since half the drunken yobs seemed to have filtered down here early, there seemed no point in paying twice the price for bottled beer.
He edged past a group of goateed macho boys with bored expressions and heavy metal t-shirts and headed for the staircase. As he neared the upper level, he could hear the rain beating down on the street above. He often wondered how these places stayed free from the water pouring into the storm drains. In the end it didn't matter as long as it stayed dry.
On the upper floor, he saw that the crowd was much smaller than most weeks he remembered, though it had been a while since he'd been here. Perhaps half of this floor's crowd really was downstairs, though he wondered why those randy boys didn't stay here to talk with the girls they might actually have a chance with. The important thing was that the path to the bar was relatively clear and he soon had his hands and lips on a cold lager.
Returning with his prize to his own floor, he noticed that the room once again belonged to figures in black, though several white t-shirts glowed in the ultraviolet from the edges of the room. His favourite lurking corner was still free, so he settled into place to sip his beer and watch the building crowd. Come to think of it, he could see why the indie boys preferred to ogle the girls down here. After all, that's what he was doing just now also (much as he kidded himself it was for higher cultural and aesthetic reasons).
Two figures caught his eye on the far side of the room.
It was David and Trisha. They must have arrived while he was upstairs, and didn't seem to have spotted him yet. He would go over and talk to them later. For now, he was quite happy where he was. They hadn't exactly been exuding sociability last time he saw them anyway, though he expected that was due to the fact that Simone and Trisha didn't get along. Still, that was between them, and for once he wasn't going to get caught in the middle.
There was enough smoke and people in the room now to avoid any perceived snubbing, so he stayed put and watched the crowd continue to grow.
Almost without thinking, he began to play that old game, scanning the crowd and imagining who he might have been inclined to chat up back in the days when he was single. The point of this exercise was unclear to him, but it always kept him amused.
Oddly enough, there wasn't really anybody who took his fancy tonight. That is, there were lots of beautiful, exotic creatures who were lovely to look on, but there was no-one whose aura made him think 'now, she is the sort of girl I could fall for". No-one that he could tell at a glance he would have risked certain humiliation and embarrassment to approach. No-one that really "jumped out".
But it was still early.
Anyway, that wasn't what he was here for.