WICKED LITTLE TOWN
Arriving after 12 (?) from a BBQ in Brooklyn, we hit MisShapes on Saturday. We were shocked to find a ridiculous line of people waiting to get into the club. Seriously, it looked like a block-length line of Devo video rejects. What the hell?!?! Since when did it become virtually impossible to even get a glimpse at the entrance to Luke & Leroy’s (where MisShapes occurs every week) without getting hit with a sequined handbag or flaming red hair extention? Was it because James Iha was spinning? Or was it John Cameron Mitchell? Maybe it was because of Melody Nelson, or perhaps they were all there to celebrate Brian IKeepADiary’s birthday?
We flashed our boobs at the doorman in order to get in, but quickly realized that wasn’t going to work. Luckily one of our male companions was gentlemanly enough to whip his hoo-ha out and we glided in like little birds of paradise.
Inside was the loud chatter of drunken out of school for the summer NYU students mixed in with the hushed murmurs of Smashing Pumpkin psychostalkers. In the back room on the first floor was Brian’s choco-chocolate birthday cake. We tried venturing upstairs, but we always get some form of epilepsy when we head up to the dance floor.
We headed back downstairs to chat with some friends again, when we heard the most godawful, dancefloor-clearing music playing. Slow jams, countrywestern songs… What the hell was going on up there? Later we found out it was John Cameron Mitchell’s horrible taste in music. Dear lord! We never knew a DJ set could be so awful. As much as we love JCM, honey, get some new musical tastes!
We could have sworn we once heard JCM spin as some gay club in the West Village… and the music wasn’t anywhere near as awful as what we heard on Saturday. Oh well.
Also this weekend Hightower (who has a show at the Mercury Lounge on August 22) bought us a huge Hershey’s chocolate bar with almonds at CVS for 99 cents. It was close to 7pm in the evening, but still daylight out. As we walked out of that West Village CVS biting into our chocolate bar, we were faced with the looks of horror and confusion.
Later, we went into a shoe shop where Dr. Pants made us try on ill-fitting (and ill-looking) vintage Vans and the old Asian lady working the register yelped out, “OOOH! YOU LIKA DA CHOCOLATE–A LOT!”
We litterally bounced around the West Village for the next hour or two before we ended up at the italian eatery, Pepe Rosso. We ordered the penne arribiata, which was the wrong thing for us to order because it was spicy and we don’t like spicy. But then again, we probably shouldn’t have eaten all that chocolate either, because our stomach felt poopy.
Oh, btw, The Music are playing Bowery next week. Be there or be passed out on the floor pooping in your own pants because you got food poisoned at Kate’s Joint. (That’s what we were doing last year when The Music played the very same venue.) We promise to be alive this time.
And thanks to Matt, we’ll be seeing our one true love, Ryan Adams, at the Beacon!
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