Holy fuck.

Last night I went to Club Heavy for this Round Robin-type show, where 5 or so bands were set up around the audience and they would all switch off playing one song at a time. It was a great show, but that is not what I want to talk to you about today. Nope. Instead, I'm going to tell you about my morning. My morning after.

I woke up on the floor of a strange apartment. Strange for a couple reasons, actually. First, because I couldn't remember how I had gotten there, and I seemed to be alone. Second, because the place seemed to be condemned or abandoned. There was no running water or electricity, and the floor was littered with hard hats and heavy work clothes. I notice I have monstrous dry mouth, and assess the situation thusly:

-I have no idea where I am, and hope I'm in the same city.
-I don't have my coat, which has 500 dollars worth of MP3 player and camera in the pocket. I do however have my cell phone and wallet.
-The bridge of my nose and my wrist hurt mysteriously, so either I fell down in a weird way or I got in a drunken fight.
-Apart from my missing coat, the rest of my clothes are on me and look the same, so it would seem I didn't have any black-out sex, which is probably for the best.
-The amount of drinking it took to get this black-out drunk was probably not good for my cold, and indeed one my nostrils is encrusted with a wonderful layer of dried snot.
-I don't appear to have been stabbed, so, you know, optimism.

I finally gather my battered self enough to walk outside, and sure enough I really don't know where I am. The apartment building is in a back street that I have a small deal of trouble finding my way out of, but I get to a main street and hail a cab. It's in the cab I realize I've lost my ring, but I have no idea how to get back to the apartment I just left so it's gone forever. Hopefully the only casualty of the night, metaphorical OR real.

On the ride back to my place, I collect my thoughts and try to put them in some sort of sane, linear order. The last thing I remember is...doing my second shot at the complimentary tequila table set up outside some club called G2. I was with some GIs and a girl I had met at Club Heavy. Ah yes, I had put my coat into a locker with hers at the club...so how to reach her? I check my phone for any new entries and I find the name "Eddie", but I believe he was a Korean guy I had met who liked Oasis and I convinced him I wasn't a teacher but some sort of rock singer. He's probably not going to be of use. I do have some calls between 1 and 3 AM to a number with no name...that's a decent lead. Unfortunately, even if it is her I don't remember her name, and there's the possibility that she doesn't have my coat, or that I insulted her somehow in my blackout state and she won't help me. The room I woke up in definitely wasn't hers (who lives there?! how did I get there?!), but I'll have to try.

But first, I brushed my teeth and showered and discovered that I have a large 2-inch gash on the small of my back. I take back what I said about probably not having been stabbed. I try to play an Orpheus game I had scheduled with friends, but I quickly lose the struggle to stay coherent and conscious and pass out on my couch.

So that's my story. Will I get my coat back, with electronic goodies intact? Did I kill a man last night? Hopefully these questions will be answered by the next time I write in here, BUT UNTIL THEN I bid my fair readers a mysterious and terrifying good night.