The Couch Office
I was faced with yet another impossible Saturday night. My phone had been lighting up all day to the point where I slowly stopped responding altogether and shifted my focus toward the more practical side of nightlife logistics, namely organizing which coping mechanisms would be required to survive the schedule ahead.
There may come a moment in the future when we look back at this period and collectively agree these were obvious signs things had spiraled completely out of control. We are simply not at that level of emotional maturity yet. But maybe keep some herbal tea and tissues nearby anyway. Just in case history catches up with us unexpectedly.
For now, though, I live day by day.
Saturday. NITE.
I wanted to start there because my memories of the previous visit were vague at best. Mostly orange. Before that, a bouncer had refused me entry entirely, which only added to the mythology of the place in my mind. This time felt different. I arrived carrying a strange inner confidence, usually produced by either personal growth or highly illegal powders, and I somehow managed to Force my way inside.
I had an amazing time. Had it not been for the fact that every single person there and the venue itself appeared to be armed with industrial-strength particle cannons, military-grade lasers and enough glowing attachments to guide aircraft through severe weather conditions, I might even have taken pictures to prove it. Unfortunately, the entire evening looked like a small-scale sci-fi invasion through my camera lens, so you will simply have to trust me on this one.
After that I moved on to Sonance, partly because you already know how I feel about that club, but also because there was someone there I needed to meet. At the pace I’ve been going lately, I am essentially burning through the very things keeping me operational. Thankfully Opie had informed me earlier that her office would be “at the couch,” which is one of the things I genuinely appreciate about underground clubs. The system is beautifully efficient. Everyone knows who has what, where they are sitting, and nobody feels the need to ask unnecessary questions about any of it. Honestly, civilization peaked there.
Somewhere along the white line I found a second wave of energy and decided to stay longer than intended. Luckily my camera finally started cooperating too, which meant that for the first time that night I actually managed to bring home evidence instead of just fragmented memories and mild psychological damage.
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.
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