play it fast. but not too fast.

when the late evening squeezed a fine, slanting rain, my boots attacked the asphalt. the winter was drawing to a close, it was friday night, and i was determined to catch a show. i left the apartment and began walking. the club was only about a twenty minute walk. passing the cafes, bookstores, 10,000 villages, i came upon central square, where the lights plunged through prisms of droplets forming oil colored anemones and young people cut to bars, others, dressed finely in london fog coats, to restaurants, tibetan, caribbean... hobos talking to themselves, everyone hulabooling as if in a heroic painting. there in the background - every painting has a background - colored brick and graffitti, concerned sky overlooking the gritty, uppity, young, old, bum, rich moving with precision and sending little clouds of breath or smoke from the carmine red of a charred tipped cigarette.

i entered the club and walked over to will call.

"have you heard of the film "lord of the gourds?" asked the person in front of me to his friend.

"yeah, i have, actually."

"that's my father. he's the pumpkin grower on the cover. i guess that makes me prince of the gourds."

he called himself "prince of the gourds." the over 18 crowd was still milling around.

i walked downstairs and ordered a beer. i felt comfortable in my flannel shirt and denim coat, and standing in a sea of isolde dolls and colored guitars, you can't measure the awe. it was the kind of night you could easily lose your guardian angel, and i was alone amongst the crowed, viewing everything through undisturbed lenses and feeling high and fine.

after a few minutes the six piece local act began. they were new wave without trying too hard, two pretty girls were in the band, and the frontman had some style. the place was vibrating and everything was cool until i spotted an old girlfriend. we had dated for a while last year. she lived close to me, but i hadn't seen her since a break-up amidst much histrionics. shit, man. i cut to the other side of the floor in the crowd like a mischievous child trying to avoid getting caught. she was usually at this club when her hip hop friends were doing their thing, so i was surprised to see her on this night. i had originally met oscar through her, as oscar knew everyone in the music scene and she went to every hip hop show. a girl who'd won a squash scholarship to prep school and then university... i slugged my beer, grabbed another, and danced in the crowd.

before the show ended, i dipped out, and caught a cab back. there's something so peaceful about exploring the world alone, and i can't find the question that's on my mind, how could i?