The Danny Howells experience

-attempting to eat garlic mash potatoes after eating garlic bread and cheese at home leving a bad taste in my mouth. Worrying about my breath
-Fearing for a lineup at just after 10 and being the 6th customer in the place
-drinking Keiths’ and socializing, sitting on barstools, waiting for the show
-Recognizing ‘Time after Time’ 3 bars in during the warm-up set
-Wondering how that tube top stays on that girl
-not ever having gotten flip-flops, watching incredulously as not one but 3 seperate people enter wearing them.
-imagining names for bars, as odd pairings as possible: the kleenex and the pteradactyl, etc.
-hitting the beer wall, far earlier than before
-wishing Mr. Howells would hurry up and get on already
-Surprise that he simply cuts the track, rather than mixing into the existing song.
-feeling the groove, getting on the floor.
-getting off the floor, feeling winded, drunk, thirsty and fat;feeling sorry for oneself.
-drinking water, going pee listening to a man jerk off in the stall beside me.
-sitting, bouncing to the beat, waiting for my puff.
-getting up on the floor, doing my thing.
-wishing this set had knocked me on my ass, happy it’s nearly that good
-Bliss:I’m not fat, I’m not broke, I’m not tired, I’m not sick, I’m not stressed, I am all alone, caressed, loved by the music that surrounds me
-knowing, innately, what’s coming next in the mix
-Realizing probably an hour or so has just passed, and everything is alright
-Realizing I’m still in the zone, and can keep going for hours now, no matter what’s thrown at me
-saying goodbye to friends, still dancing
-feeling guilty for dance-floor flatulence, feeling better knowing I can’t smell worse than the bearded guy to my left
-wondering how the hell that girl expects to dance in that mini-skirt and stiletto heels
-laughing inwardly as every move hikes the skirt above the panty line; the vain attempts to keep it down;the dejected leaving of the dance floor
-watching those there for other reasons than to dance leaving the floor, perhaps paired up, perhaps not, but not relevant
-That special feeling of tiredness knowing that if I stop, I’ll never start again, but there’s no need to stop
-clapping, hooting, hollering, appreciating the set for what it was as he blows us kisses, ending it
-cheering as an encore starts up, only now feeling the 10 lbs of sweat I’m probably now wearing
-leaving during the encore, feeling unlike I have in ages, not missing a thing
-walking home with Day, shooting the shit
-waiting in line at Tim Horton’s; leaving when we’re next because it took so long
-a nice hot shower to clean up; feeling wired on andrenaline
-water & peanut-butter on bread, chilling out and cooling down – making us of Back to Mine as it was meant to be.

à demain, mes amis.

2 Replies to “The Danny Howells experience”

  1. the flip flop thing is pretty funny. i’ve seen people who can wear them with little pairs of pants, and they look very glamorous. but dance in them? bring on the trainers.

    me, i put the flip flop in “flip flop”.

  2. the flip flop thing is pretty funny. i’ve seen people who can wear them with little pairs of pants, and they look very glamorous. but dance in them? bring on the trainers.

    me, i put the flip flop in “flip flop”.

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