Another weekend without you: Friday- Part 2

11:25pm-Outside the Abbey

We've been standing on line for about forty minutes now and have moved a grand total of thirty feet. That's not even a foot a minute for those of you too lazy to do the math. Now if you look from across the street you'll see me right there. Yep, that's me inching my way to the awning, decked out in a dark blue pinstripe suit jacket, black velvet trousers, a Virgin of Guadalupe button-up and a black with silver highlighted Luchadore mask. The Magpie is in front of me, yeah that's him... done up smooth in the bondage gear with a bowler hat, looking like an S&M version of a Clockwork Orange Droog. As you can see we're tightly sandwiched betweeen a Green Beret with his demure little piece of chicken gufawing at the other costumes and the guy behind us dressed up as some kind of clown-pimp along with his old lady, who is working 'ye-old-medieval-fairy-in-a-corset-routine'.

"You know what this is like?" I ask the Magpie with an excitement that makes the question completely rhetorical.

"What?" He says bored with the answer already.

"It's like what Dragon*Con would look like if it was held in Buckhead." I answer with that smug sense of satisfaction I get whenever I think i'm being witty.

"Heh" The Magpie nods forgetting what i've said already, "Hey look! We're moving."

It's true. We take four steps and stop. We stand there about five minutes when a skinny Jesus of Nazareth squeezes in between us and the Green Beret, and makes his way up the grassy hill, with a homemade cross bigger than him being dragged behind him on his back. He makes his way up to the front of the entrance where he's promptly stopped by the cop they got working the door.

Jesus waves for back up. Two blond pieces of euro-skank emerge from behind the door and wave back. "Heyyyy...let Heem in. He'ssss'lright...." They testify with a slur of strange accents. The cop just stands his ground, eyeballing the Son of God, not quite sure if he's really 'alright' or not. Finally, an Edwardian era valet(complete with powdered wig, sparkle gold valet uniform with matching gold stockings) slides out from between the euro-skanks, gingerly walks over to the Cop, whispers in his ear and then promptly disappears back from behind the blond veil from which he appeared.

The cop nods and Jesus is allowed into the Abbey.

Friends in high places and all that.

Ten minutes later we move another four feet.

*****

Another weekend without you: Friday-Pt 3

2:15 am -The Abbey

Under the vaulted ceilings of the Abbey, the DJ stands a story above us on the pulpit, laying down a barrage of hard-house beats that has the entire congregation moving below. He is joined by a live drumming ensemble that sits below him in, what would normally be, the choir section. They work with the DJ rather than against them, giving the hard-house drive from above a rhythmic punch that pounds straight into the reptillian brain and over rides the ego circuitry, leaving you with no choice but to move!

I've been dancing for roughly two hours non-stop and i've never felt better. The floor is packed like a meathouse. There must be over two hundred on the floor easy. All those horny normies trying to do their booty-call-of-the-wild to any prospective mate. Look closely children, this is how little lame white people are made... it starts with a lot of drinking. This will help numb down the painful void that is their sound bite decorated personality. Then, once the proper amount of social lubricant has been applied, comes a complex dance that involves not moving the hips, but rather just a swaying of the shoulders accompanying a rather awkward two step shuffle. If the female is impressed by this shuffling, she will release a high pitched 'WOO!' to signal that she is impressed by her partner. If the male in turn is satisfied with this 'Woo', he will return to his male companions and offer a sonorous 'Dude'!

Then roughly nine months later a future Business Major is born.

But y'know fuck these people anyway... i'm dancing.
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