t hursd ay

a summary of thursday: things were "fast paced", people got confused, nothing slowed down, convenience was lost, the music stopped all of it, confusion re-emerged, it blended with the remaining music, drinking continued to make it all less of an issue, people muttered words like "pretentious" and filled in the blanks of phrases negatively describing the "___st set change i've ever seen".

i know that lambert's has the look and feel of a place best experienced often, and in large doses. i also know that snowden fits the same description. the confluence of the two provided a glorious and required snapshot of both physiological and psychological enlightenment to a day that had already experienced airport sports bars (yawn), questionable hotel arrangements (whatever), mistake-filled directions to liquid alcohol spoken in spanish (frustrating), broken cab commitments resulting in a multi-mile commute (predictable), and starving but attractive residents of pennsylvania waiting in line for food best sold to people other than us (finally). the set was fantastic.

leaving lamberts led us to soho lounge (mostly hip) and citay (painfully unattractive, instantly forgettable), where communication breakdowns transformed my trip downstairs into a one-way decision out of the show that had apparently been overfilled during the five minute conversation i had with a mostly sexy group of british teens outside of the women's bathroom. failed attempts of using charm, money, and logic on the staff managed to nonetheless leave me in a crowd less than patiently waiting to get back in. i left. time spent wandering 6th street included witness to a few arrests, random drinks in random bars, and a call from t. price.

buffalo billiards, site of the barsuk showcase, was his destination, and our chance to reconnect. aquaduct (seattle address, limited appeal) has a web address that lies. afterwards, menomena (great sound, captivating presentation) disappointed only in taking an hour to prep for a 20 minute set. we stared, moved, and applauded in unison throughout the abbreviated but powerful performance, even as college boys drunk on pabst did their best to crush the atmosphere. fucking kids, lacking both a sense of awareness and an ability towards action. briefly i considered the joy of fracturing eye sockets. the consequences, however, seemed inconvenient. having been awake for 26 hours straight, the chosen alternative was a cab back to the hotel (victory), late night diner food (again, whatever), and sleep. thursdays are like that.