arty party

saturday i grab my records and head to a party somewhere in brooklyn. i take her with me because i can feel more at ease while uncomfortable with her there than i can coming home to her if she wasnt.

its a party just to have a party is what were told when we arrive. its at a large loft ive never been to thrown by a guy i dont know. im doing a favor for a friend. filling in with a buddy. i set my records down and ask where the alcohol is. she stays in tow but is playing low pro. like things are easier if i dont even know shes there.

the place is essentially one large canvas. paintings and poetry etched straight into the walls. different color lights bathe the hardwood floor. musical instruments line the halls and hang from the ceiling. soundproof curtains cover the windows and a wall in front of one of the bedrooms is dedicated to public graffiti. there was no order to anything and it felt very natural and comforting, this casual lack of regard.

a movie played that had something to do with young boys at a private school beating another young boy until he bled and there was some not so subtle homoerotic subtext and a guy sharpening pencils and then it ended. the band played a 20 minute set of original music that sounded to be stoned goth funk and i thought maybe i was seeing something special but couldnt tell because sometimes i just cant tell these days. they played another movie which her and i ducked out during. and we smoked cigarettes and held hands shyly.

i played some funk and they said i really added an element to the party then gave me some money i wasnt expecting. i told him i liked his band and he gave me a cd single. she left before i did and when i got home she was on the couch asleep. i kissed her forehead and filled another glass with wine. she stirred and moaned and turned to her side and it was sunday morning at 4am.