Tuesday, September 19, 2006

24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE

31.01.05


Weekends go fast, unfortunately. I will have a lot to remember from the weekend that just passed, fortunately. And of course I won’t forge that I set you all up and of course I won’t forget how often my phone was ringing when someone from you was asking ‘But where on earth are you?’. May my teddy bear be well, with his great face and unforgettable profile, entering the room and relaxing everyone: ‘Nicholas is coming’. And Nicholas was indeed coming with Dimitris.

There was a huge traffic on the road. This is no excuse. Moreover, it took us about half an hour to park (this is no excuse either) and a lot of cleverness to avoid the huge Rottweiler that we met loose on some corner of the street before it chopped us (it was the first time of my life that I was afraid of a dog) – and this can definitely not be any kind of excuse.

In the end, this meeting took place about an hour later (you know better than me how much time passed). To my great joy, I found you sitting altogether and I confess that while approaching you I was wondering whether or not I would get away with slaps and swearing. I don’t use to appear like a Diva in the middle of the stage and, although I don’t think of establishing that, I admit that I was impressed with your patience. Well, you are unbelievably polite. I congratulate you on that. I also congratulate you on your resilience regarding ‘heavy’ guitars, drums and bass or (let’s put it differently) your ability to appreciate good music. And yet the best music of the whole world would sound terrible without your presence.

Thanks to you, my dear –old and new- friends, I can experience the best thing that is happening to me right here right now. Not somewhere else, not some other time, but RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW! Somewhere among the tables with the various drinks, hiding behind smoke and colourful lights, I am standing up. I am holding you and you are holding me. We are dancing afterwards, as if this is the most natural thing in the world (not that it isn’t). Before I get tired, I let my legs fall on the floor. I move as I can. I sweat as I can and I am now sure that our sweat is what makes the ground so slippery (disgusting but plausible discovery).

When I finally decide to sit down, I’m done but I wish I can always be tired like that: being exhausted after a great party (those of you who left early will be wondering if I am exaggerating). Around 5 o’clock in the morning, having managed to arrive at home, I see that I have a treaded and dirty cigarette end stuck on my shoe. I pick it up fast before the dog finds and eats it. I take a quick look at my dirty shoes: they look as if half a centimeter from the soles is melted. I laugh at myself. I remember I used to tell my mom: ‘You know, I don’t mind that I can’t walk. What kills me is that I can’t dance.’.
Well, I’ll never say such crap for as long as I live.