Uncut

You can never be too careful these days, appearances are deceiving as we learned in my last post concerning whether a guy is straight or not. Now we also have to be concerned with whether he is legal too, as I learned in this week’s edition of “what will Riana get into next?”

I have usually always avoided this problem in the past, I’ve never been a stickler for age, younger is fine within a year or so. But ever since my social life has mostly consisted of the bar scene for the past 4 years, the majority of men I’ve met are older, or at least 21. Mistake number one was ever relying on this system. Of course I know there are faults in it, after all I was drinking in bars since the age of 19, but it had for a long time supplied me with the illusion I was meeting and mingling with my own generation.

This past Friday was no different; I was attempting a heavy night of drinking with multiple locations to hit. First it was off to Hoboken for a legendary performance of songs by Vinnie Caruana, in both his current band and his former one the movielife. The crowd was mostly an older one, in a laid back bar setting. The reason it was an older crowd was the fact that the movielife reached their peak in the glory days of Drive-thru records, back in about 2001-2004. I was young then but certainly listening to their music and attending the shows at the early age of 14. Now at 23 the world of attending shows is slightly different. I no longer insist in being at the front of the crowd covered in others perspiration, I do not make the classic faux pas of wearing the band shirt, and taking pictures with all the members. These days when I arrive my first destination is usually the bar, watching the show from the comfortable background, but still singing along to every word. I do not approach band members, they do not interest me, but more often then not I end up striking conversations with people at the bar, who are almost always musicians. I understand this experience from a different perspective now, I feel older, matured.

After many drinks and sing alongs with old friends who have similarly grown up around this scene, appreciating good music, I am off to Webster Hall. I arrive only just before 1am to the clustered mobs outside, people have been arriving for hours to the high capacity venue but still there are lines everywhere. My friends had been waiting for some time with no luck of getting in. As soon as I arrive however we seemed to have no trouble, as I had made sure to secure a spot on the list. Luckily unbeknownst to the undesirable crowd that frequents the upstairs parts of Webster Hall, there is a separate entrance for those more trendy and hip, the party known as Trash. Through this loophole we avoided all lines and paid a mere $5 to enter a party and show that others had paid over 10 times as much for. Upon entering I found an array of familiar faces, some already heavily intoxicated after a long head start before I got there. I heard my name called from multiple directions, and a friend would stumble over to say hello. 

Upstairs on the other hand was a completely different world; I was suddenly taken from the familiar and thrust into the world unknown. Somehow I had missed the memo about taking a bunch of ecstasy and arriving with your finest glow sticks and shades. Shirtless men danced everywhere; the bodies were packed tightly, giving confidence to strangers to start conversations due to the incredibly accessible proximity. I took in the freak show while my ears throbbed at the repulsing music. More friends found their way upstairs in the oncoming anticipation of the headlining act entitled Skrillex, a form of unfathomable dubstep music by Sonny Moore. I continued to drink in an attempt to dull my senses and attain the level of belligerence of those around me.

In my surrounding company I recognized every face but one. Well I saw more hair than face really, but it was certainly on someone I did not know. I have a habit of often adding anyone I don’t know on to my list of mistakes in bars, this night was no different. In the crowd of musicians and managers I of course should have predicted his occupation, he even had the Justin Bieber hair. I could feel this stranger was drawn to me. I’ve always had a knack for reading body language, he was being rather blatant in his closeness and attempts to initiate some kind of dancing. I laughed it off at first, finding it odd, I was accustomed to at least some kind of drunken banter before physicality begins. I paid him little mind, conversed with friends, and drank more.

In the crowd of familiar faces I saw one I did not particularly care for, he was a pompous man whore of sorts who I had spent a little time with in the past. He towered over his prey of the night, dancing and kissing. I happened to know that his behavior that night had offended a friend of mine he had more recently spent time with, and in an impulse to offend right back, I let the stranger kiss me. When the man whore noticed our activity he leaned in and said “this is my boy, show him the best night of his life.” 

I soon realized he was willing to initiate the physical aspects but I was going to have to be the one to start the conversation. I found out things like his name, that he made music, and was managed by said man whore. We soon exchanged numbers and followed each other’s twitters, essentials of meeting a new person obviously. I found it rather odd that he had never heard of the Movielife when I discussed my earlier plans, and similarly that he was wearing a Jac Vanek bracelet (I use to wear one but found it far too childish) however I thought nothing of this at the time. At almost 4am I made my exit, kissed the stranger one last time and fled to grab pizza and a boat ride home. Upon arriving back I facebooked the stranger to find he was born in 1992. An entire five years after I was born, he was closer to my little sisters’ age than mine. I felt nauseous; I still had 18 year old in my mouth. I brushed my teeth profusely and went to bed.

I realize this sort of this can happen to anyone, but why must it always happen to me? Once again I suggest asking the age question before any time of regrettable kissage, no matter how old someone appears to look, you can always be caught off guard.