We planned on leaving for this party by 7 at the latest, of course, we didn't actually get directions until 11. Since this event had a high chance of getting busted, we thought it would be a good idea to bring directions to a "back up party" with us, as we didn't want to drive all the way to LA (from San Diego) for nothing. Thus, Nintechno was plan B, in case things did not go according to plan A.

Christy drove up to LA, allowing me to nap, well not nap, but rest, during the drive.

At the parking garage map point, we locked the car, drank a Monster Energy drink, smoked a cigarette, and talked to the party girls that came over to our hotel, no make that motel, since the TV had no remote control, after Nocturnal Wonderland.

BTW, Nocturnal was great. My favorite Nocturnal so far, although I only went to 2000 and 2002. I went to Nocturnal 2003, but stood outside to hand out magazines.

Uhm, yeah, so we are talking to the party girls, the Blond who will will call Ms. B plays an important part in tonight's story, and the brunette less so, so we will just call her the Brunette.

There is also a nice looking Asian girl in a slick white leather jacket and some rolling guy who describes himself as a peaceful martial artist. He goes on to say that he has a cage match coming up in a few months and then, excitedly, says that "The party isn't going to STOP until we get there."

See, he meant to say that the party isn't going to START until we get there, but he was rolling.

So imagining that the party really was going to stop the moment we got there was a little funny. "As soon as we walk in, the music is like 'bump bump bump SCRreeeee' the lights come on, everyone is looking at us..." says the stylish Asian girl in white leather. We laugh.

Moments later, a big white van pulls up to shuttle us to the party, and we all pile in. The driver is listening to a CD of random sounds. First is a train, next is a baby crying. Really. Really random. No music, no beat, just one random sound byte and then another. What the fuck was that shit? Am I ever going to listen to that? Is that what you listen to after you have already listen to every kind of music?

Soon enough, we get to that special building, enter the lobby, and wait for the elevator to take us to the 6th floor. The doors open, we get in, the doors close, cables pull the elevator , and by the 4th floor, bass enters from above. Moments later, the doors open, we flash our bracelets, and we are in. At 1:30 a.m.

I'm impressed. The venue is filled with smoke, and full of people. The sound is pretty good, I guess, good enough. The place is about 4,000 square feet, and huge windows reveal an expansive view of the LA skyline. Up front a DJ does his business, mixing one house record into the next, into the next, into the next, with adequate skill. I get to a spot where I start to move to the music. It takes no effort, none. Despite a few distractions, including meeting up with Mike and Tara, who invited us to this party, I manage to dance for 90 minutes.

"It feels ... so good ... to be ... alive! BwaaaHhhaaHhaaaHaaaaAaaaa!"

My inner vampire injects, and a predatory spice is sprinkled onto everything. My girlfriend Christy becomes the obstacle who stands in the way of me sinking my teeth into other girls, other girls become clueless, helpless, meals on heals naively exchanging flirtatious glances, unluckily smiling back at the wrong guy. Not wrong as in he will not hold the door open or "forget" to call, but wrong as in he will lead to her ultimate DOOM.

"Just don't let Christy catch you checking out other girls! BwahHaaHaah!"

From subject to subject, my mind wanders, each thought in some way connected to the next, while my body goes from limber and loose to a little tired. It is time for a Rum and Coke, which are rumored to be very strong and can be found at the back of the venue, near the 20 foot light display projected onto the wall.

Here I notice Ms. B. again, who is curiously standing behind a 4 foot wide sheer cloth draped from the ceiling. I approach her and tell her that she is not allowed to stand there. She actually starts to apologize, I laugh and she gets mad. She pushes me back. Oh I see, its time for one of those dance things; I have done this many times. We dance, and this is the highlight f the night for me, as Ms. B. is one of the few girls at the party who can dance, and dancing with a girl who can dance is something that I like very much. I am having fun, until Ms. B. suddenly turns mean and pushes me again, this time so hard that I fall onto the couch, partially landing on and innocent bysitter. Wow! Exciting! I spring back on my feet and cautiously get closer to Ms. B, who suddenly turns super nice. The night is complete, and I give my live in girlfriend Christy the 10 minute warning, since I wanted to drive home before the sun reared it's ugly head, and prefer for it to be dark when I finally go to bed. Also, my Spidey Sense is telling me to quit while I'm ahead.

As the elevator door opens for the 3rd time, we see two men in police uniforms standing inside, here to end tonight's party. Or as male strippers here to make it that much crazier? Of course, it was the former.

Always trust your Spidey Sense, I guess, and as the doors close, I feel awfully 37ish. Having chosen to leave the party at the perfect time, considering that staying for another 2 minutes would have delayed our exit by at least an hour. But it didn't.

--
Regards,
raversdigest@gmail.com