night on the town

I go out on a night with myself. I am taking myself out on a night on the town…my way…no compromises. I will go to as many places as I like, stay for as long or as little as I like. There will be no one to consult or argue options with.

I am acting out with a serious case of (a term my mate b-ski invented) F.O.M.O

Fear

Of

Missing

Out…

Why else would I attempt to go to four events in four hours? And how will I know when is best to be at each space?

When I arrive at trash city limits at the diamond lounge, my first thought is: Waiting on my own is not so much fun. I get more than a few stares. What do people think of me in this turquoise dress, on my own, writing in a lime notebook? Maybe they think I'm a journalist?

And then a woman's voice says

Excuse me

I move aside to let her pass, miss her face but catch her walking off, all long legs and tight black vinyl knickers, fishnet hold ups. Yes… I've come to the right place.

A dj moves to the dj box, a mic is adjusted. Something must be happening. The lights dim and then, to a pulsing hard rock soundtrack, a curvy brunette performs a striptease down the runway shaped stage. Her every move executed with precision, perfect. The act culminates with a dance with firey wands, which she juggles and swallows, occasionally stopping to take a sip from a pitcher of fuel, occasionally spitting out a spray of fire.

After her act I walk out into the street and decide I need to give myself some games to make things interesting, like if at this very moment I turn my head, and see a cab then I am allowed to hail it.

Bingo

I tell the driver the address he says something in german that sounds to me like

*what hour of the street is it?

I give him the number again

I havn't understood, he asks again

What hour is it..?

I say I don't know, apologise for my german. He says its ok.asks where I'm from, apologises for not speaking English. And then I say in german

Um do you mean which corner? Its between this street and this street

Yes, that's what he meant.

When we arrive at the gallery I'm disappointed. I've been to this space many times before. Each time was heralded as the best party ever. Each time I'd walked in to the two packed rooms you could barely move through and left shortly after.

Why was I here again? Oh yes, an exhibition, with an after party with a major dj, and the clincher, everyone would be wearing masks.

As I push through the doorway and look to the dj I realise I have no idea what this major dj looks like. So it could be him spinning,or not. And yes everyone is wearing masks, but by now they have all been pulled back to their foreheads. Giving everyone strange hair, with the impression of metallic headbands.

I consider getting a drink, then pretend to be looking for someone. Then I actually make the effort to fight through the crowd to look at the art, and many people give me pointed glares for this effort. If I wanted to see the art, why did I come now?

There's not much point in staying. I invent a new mission. I will not leave until I have a mask. This is slightly tricky as it appears they are no longer giving them away, so getting one means taking one from someone else. How will I manage that?

I will wait for the first boy who smiles at me…no that could get dangerous. No I will wait for the first boy who smiles at me…shyly. Yes. I will pretend to be looking for someone, and then the first boy who smiles at me shyly, I will go up to him and say very politely

Enshuldigung... kann Ich deine Mask haben?

And after a few smiling boys, I see the one I'm after. The one who meets my eyes, smiles and then immediately looks away. He seems very surprised when I go over to him. And when I ask. He smiles again.

Naturlich...

Grinning now as he takes it off and hands it to me, as if he's happy to have done me this favour. I wait for him to disappear out the door way, before counting to five and then walk in the opposite direction out the door.

After the fourth event, a cabaret night at the kookurburra comedy club, I leave with my friends to an anarchist bar nearby. The bartender looks at me like I'm insane when I order a jackdaniels with soda on ice. He modifies this to a jamessons (without ice, anarchists find ice offensive apparently) and another glass beside it with seltzer water.

I consider joining a friend across town at the club wilde renate, but think better of it, and traipse back in my highheels to the ubahn to finally make it home.