(Re)Welcome To the World Six Feet Below the Ground

2/7/2015 8:06:05 PM

“Dear Nightlife,

It’s been four years, seven months and almost twenty-seven days since the last time I had a time with you.

And now, I do really miss you so much. Hope to bump fists with you soon!

Your long-time friend,

SlickMaster”

Okay, let’s move on.

It was a Saturday evening, as I strolled around one of the nightlife districts in the city. Say, it’s been years since the last time I had done this (though also, it was unfortunate I did not enjoy the night away then). Maybe I wasn’t totally satisfied on the very last time I danced and rocked the night away. After all, a student’s life still has its limits when it comes on being “outgoing.”

The clock ticks thirty-seven past eight, and I already entered the building; with a corresponding price. Say, a two hundred peso-worth entry pass that comes with a free drink? Not bad; I think it’s gonna be worth the value.

Inside, everything in uniform was busy, preparing the drinks, the stage, the instruments, while some hipster-like execs are conferring each other; I assume it’s a pre-production meeting prior to this event. Somehow, organizing such gig—if it’s a small one—can be really stressful sometimes on their part. Of course, everything still has to rack up, business-wise speaking: they should have enough audience, payroll for their talent, sales on the venue’s services.

While some are actually delivering some bottles and plates with content on the tables of some customers; I also spotted people watching the game on TV. It was Klay Thompson’s third quarter explosion – and it’s an all-time league-best; while others were staring on their smartphones, chatting with their companions, or just taking their second round of dinner.

Twenty-three minutes later, one of the guys took the microphone and announced the line-up for the night; eleven performers will be on the list. I myself told, “It’s gonna be a long night; but I’ll guarantee that this is one-heck-of-a-long-night.”

The names sounded totally new to my ears. I took my table with one drink on the right hand, and a phone on my left. Wasn’t texting nor calling everyone though; but I stopped browsing my social networking accounts and let the gadget turned into an instant moment-capturer instead.

The acoustics gave a preliminary vibe to the atmosphere. A light one, in fact; perhaps a trend-setter for the evening packed of music.

But as the night goes on, so does the intensity of the craft. Things go a bit heavier hour by hour. And I can sense the not-a-boring scenery will gonna be explode soon like those patrons who flocked the Big Dome in every popular rivalry game in basketball.

Midnight comes close, and the population inside the bar racks higher. It’s gonna be a huge party here; and just ticks later, a lot of people already joined on the round table where I am temporary residing with; conversing with each other, be it acquaintances or close friends.

Nevertheless, I ended up joining the fray. Say, these are the nicest people on the planet; aside from those first-time meet-ups in your offices or schools. Everyone was so high, friendly, even giving high-fives and cheers. Some even treated drinks on each other.

As for me, circle of friends were my talking and rocking buddies for a while.

The main carders were up, and everyone was already on their feet. And as the band took over the musical chores, everyone was rocking out; bumping their heads, swaying, enjoying every single beat and rhythm, singing along to the lyrics without the help of any videoke-like fashion.

Literally, it’s like a concert out there.

My phone now reads 3:16 AM, and everything was over. The crew starts packing up; though a lot of people were still interacting as if the night’s just starting. 

I ended up meeting some of the musicians; and approaching them turned out like a friendly conversation: totally down-to-earth guys and gals. Even the production people itself. Talk about mutual respect right there.

Okay, nine minutes later, I realized it’s really high-time. I have to leave the place. But then, we exchanged numbers and social networking accounts before I do so; hoping to bump with them the next I’ll be around.

As I hit the deck 19 minutes later, I thought everything was just a dream. 

“No,” as my realization hand slaps me. “You did it again; and this time, it was really a good time as shit! Good job this time, Slickmaster!”

Well, fuck yeah. Indeed it was really a good time; you got the quality of music that you’ve been craving for since the last time you habitually listen to the radio. You managed to meet new people on your own – and proved the fact that “nightlife was still the best setting for social networking activities,” and the fact that not all underground gigs were as bad as the stereotype-driven society thinks. Not all rockers are dependents and addicts. They were real artists who did not mind the cost of perfecting their craft.

At the end of the night, like I said earlier, it was indeed a good time.

There’s one thing I’d like to do next, though: meeting that single, mysterious-vibe-slash-beautiful lady on that table placed ten o’clock from mine.

Okay, save that one for the next gig. For now, it was a warm welcome to the world for me.

Oh, sorry, that a re-welcome actually though it felt like a first time on my part.

Photographed by the author. Setting: Route 196 Bar, Katipunan Avenue, Blue Ridge-A, Project 4, Quezon City

Author: slickmaster | © 2015 september twenty-eight productions