Going Downhill
So, the last stop before things got completely out of hand last Saturday was Afterneath.
I should have known things were going downhill from there. The place is literally underground.
Subtle warning, really.
That doesn’t prevent anyone from finding it, though. It’s been a year now since Nikky quite literally built the club with her bare hands, which remains something I adore. You’ve got to love a DJ who knows how to build a set from scratch.
Sorry.
Had to.
There’s an entire archive on their website documenting what happened down there over those twelve months, so I’m not going to repeat all of that here. Let’s just say Afterneath has managed to build quite a name for itself in a year. For me personally, though, it has always been about the people.
It’s the people I run into there, the conversations that somehow start and then go places I hadn’t anticipated, and the consistently great music coming from the speakers while all of that is happening.
Sure, there’s sex as well, but I consider that more or less a given in my life, so I’m not sure it qualifies as a distinguishing feature anymore.
Let’s just say I fit right in.
I wielded my camera around a bit too, because even while my Saturday was slowly heading towards criminal proceedings, I remained committed to documenting the evidence.
Looking back, perhaps not my smartest move.
I couldn’t stay particularly long. Unforeseen circumstances required my attention elsewhere shortly afterwards.
You already know how that went.
Still, if everything works out, the witnesses remain unreliable and the right people have been paid off, I should be cleared to return for the next one.
Happy anniversary, Afterneath.
I’ll try not to arrive in a getaway car.
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This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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