I’m A Rave Survivor

This was an evening to put the past where it is. Raves are the reality shows of parties, an idea WAY past it’s time full of people who look like they’re about to try-out for American Idol on too many drugs.

But this is just the end of the night, there was plenty to cheer about which made the rave that much more pathetic. Starting the night with Swan Lewis and no plans, yet. We get the call and head down to the latest in night life at “The Bistro”.

After getting drinks, Avery (the coolest bartender) takes Swan and I on tour of the “speakeasy” in the basement. After climbing down wood stairs we end up in a cement basement. Wood benches along the wall with pillows and red lights along the edge. Seperate rooms that use the furniture from the old Bar Code. The place is dope, dark, dank and completely illegal. I’m down.

Back upstairs some mean ass Dubstep was being let loose on the crowd and BG scored 5 free tickets to Pase Rock @ Berbati’s, sweet. Off we go to Berbati’s. Do you know the scene in Star Wars where the crew of the Millenium Falcon are headed to the Death Star, Obi Won says “That’s no moon, that’s a space station.”? Then the tractor beam pulls them in? That’s what happened. The closer we got to the entrance the worse this place looked, until it was too late and we had no choice.

There are no pictures because I couldn’t even stand to be in the room with auditory vomit and the blandest looking people. It felt like some Corporate party at Sundance, where the place is filled with HORRIBLE House music pounding while some girls who were paid to dance on the stage and wear a weird costume dance like they were paid to. Everyone standing around watching some bored girls and an even more boring DJ. On top of all that was the lamest attempts to make Camel cigarettes cool with splashy graphics on convention display booths all over.

I immediately ran (almost literally) to the other side where DJ ATM was at. Thank fucking god! Continued next week