never (lilmissnever) wrote,
never
lilmissnever

Lost Weekend

You don't want to know about my weekend. You have absolutely no interest in the carefully reconstructed timeline of Groundhog Day or late-night sushi or trying to clean the filthy, filthy kitchen floor mats in my Concrete Bunker, the porn at Agent Provocateur, my epic grouchiness at having missed aerials class, or what I think of Amy Chua's Day of Empire.

To be honest, you don't really want to know about New Wave City either, but I am going to share it with you anyway. This is your last chance to look away. Close your eyes. Scroll down. Take a walk. And don't say I didn't warn you: there is a monster at the end of this post.

The DNA Lounge is essentially Cheers for computer nerds who wear too much black. A few days a week, we all slip into its warm and comforting embrace to dance on boxes, drink for free, and complain about the music, even when the music is good. It doesn't matter that New Wave City is Saturday night. It could be any night at the DNA where Depeche Mode is playing and Sixteen Candles is being projected on three of the walls.

The most important thing about Saturday night is that it is not Bondage-a-Go-Go. This becomes important when I see a man approaching the bar that makes me wonder if there is something wrong with my eyesight. His face is, well, warped - squished into the sort of configuration I would expect to see on one of Star Trek's aliens-of-the-week. It's got to be a mask...a mask with some sort of head harness. Oh god. I am wrong. I am wrong and I would really like for one of my taller companions to stand between myself and this man so that I can stop looking at him. He is dressed in nothing but a pair of black leather hot pants with several bar towels tucked into the waistband and a head harness that features two enormous steel hooks that latch on to his nostrils and pull his nose up like a pig's. He is dancing. Oh god, he is dancing behind me and I think I can feel his sweaty back. I am going to have to wash this shirt immediately. I may have to burn it in cleansing fire.

Terrifying Nostril Hook Man proceeds to unzip his leather hot pants and demonstrate his heavily-pierced penis to the crowd. I think I see a Masterlock in there. Now, I am a woman of the world. I have seen many strange and terrible things (please refer to Giant Inflated Saline Penis Man), but Terrifying Nostril Hook Man with his penis on display in the middle of New Wave City - in my safe and comfortable place - is unconscionable! I don't even know which part of him to look away from first. I do what any brave and forthright woman of the world would do: I hide in the upstairs lounge.

Damn you, Terrifying Nostril Hook Man. Put your penis back in your pants and get out of my Cheers.
Tags: dna lounge, eeew, new wave city, nostril hook man, still not clean!, things that must not be
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