When I was younger, I had major issues with going to the clubs solo, like I might have been broadcasting that I didn't have any friends or something like that. Now, going out by myself is no big deal because it is inevitable that I will end up meeting up with at least a small handful of friends or acquaintances.
Like tonight at Henry Fonda, I knew I would run into Annie. This was mostly because every time we have run into each other for the past three months, she has asked if I planned to go to the show and I shrugged because I honestly didn't know. Annie was by herself waiting for a friend who was running late, so we partnered up for the night. Now, if you're ever at a club alone, you want to run into Annie because she is always dancing around, which will force you to keep moving even when your back still hurts from that festival you went to over the weekend. Later on, we ran into no fewer than 10 people we knew, collectively speaking, but most of the night, it was Annie and I screaming things into the other's ears.
"Do you think they'll play two Libertines songs?" (Annie)
"Doesn't Carl look like Marc Almond?" (Me)
BTW, the band did play two Libertines songs.
Strange, kind of scary things have been happening at clubs lately. Take, for example, last Saturday's events during Tool's performance at Street Scene. Then, tonight, Annie and I were standing by the bar and this girl drops to the ground and everyone thinks she's out cold. She's not moving at all and Annie said she saw her eyes roll back. It was unnerving, even for the bartenders, who looked like they were ready to call the paramedics. Then she literally jumped up and darted off towards the crowd, as if nothing happened. I've seen seizures at clubs maybe twice before, but those happened when the stroblights were pounding (at the Fonda, in between bands, there were no lights) and the people seemed disoriented afterward. This was definitely different and it left Annie and I a bit rattled until the band went on some time later. Then, during the show, some dude just walks into the crowd and starts hitting people. At a freakin' Brit pop show of all places, that's about as random as finding a polite drunk at Ozzfest. Finally, because strange things happen in threes, it took a full hour to travel the half-mile distance between my freeway exit and the one immediately preceding it. I presume that, at some point in the evening, there was an accident, but when I passed the four lanes that were shut down, all I saw were flares and two cops.