I Never Made It To New York
I was ready for World Music Day yesterday at three of my favorite clubs. Starting at The Continental, continuing to The Drip, and ending the night at NITE, which had been transformed into Tokyo, London, and New York City respectively. Six hours of music and dancing might be a challenge for some people. Especially for those who don’t use anything extra.
The Continental completely blew my mind. I couldn’t recognize the place when I walked in, so I was relieved to spot a number of familiar faces on the dance floor because, if I’m honest, I needed that. Life has been a little rocky lately. If you’ve been through a stretch like that yourself, you’ll know how much comfort there can be in simply finding your people exactly where you expect them to be. No deep conversations required. Just knowing they’re there. So yes, I had a great time.
When the party moved to The Drip, I found myself disoriented all over again. The place had disappeared, replaced by the streets of London. We arrived through the Underground and emerged into a city that looked like it had seen its fair share of history, trouble, and perhaps the occasional bomb shelter. Fortunately, the only thing dropping that night were the beats.
My anticipation for what promised to be a great, but very long, night had created a bit of a problem, though. Usually I’m pretty good at managing my intake. Experience counts for something after all. Yesterday, however, something felt off. The world around me slowed down. Parts of it drifted in and out of focus. Friends I reached out to for help weren’t able to make it over.
So I found myself standing on the side of a London street that didn’t fully exist, listening to the music, watching people pass by, and focusing on the ancient art of breathing in and breathing out while hoping nobody noticed I probably should have been in bed. The good thing about habits that have become second nature is that they keep working under almost any circumstances. I’m fairly convinced I could operate a camera while passing through the light. At least we have that.
After a while I started feeling better. Better enough, in fact, to wonder whether I’d make it to NITE after all. That’s when a friend of a friend wandered over to where I was standing. After the usual compliments, which apparently come with the job description of being me, I was offered a ride. It sounded significantly more appealing than taking the Tube.
My mother warned me about situations like this.
On the other hand, I’ve never been particularly interested in staying inside my comfort zone. Sometimes a little magic happens when you don’t. So no, I never made it to NITE. Instead, I ended up somewhere entirely different, and my night concluded in a way I certainly hadn’t expected when I first walked into Tokyo six hours earlier.
Maybe I’ll tell you about that part another time.
Or maybe I won’t.
Click them for a larger resolution and save.
This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
Join the awesomeness. Leave an epic reply.
