wickedflea | (no subject)

I feel better this morning than I did yesterday, when I sort of felt like I could get sick if I really wanted to. I was probably just getting over all the smoke from Sunday night.

Hmmm, I should probably explain that. When

Peter and I were leaving the club the other night, we stopped to say hello to a friend of his who was working the door--actually a folding table just inside the door. We were standing there talking, and all of a sudden some guy comes flying (plummeting) out from behind a curtain just behind Peter's friend and falls flat on his back. I can't believe the guy didn't bust his head wide open, because he didn't brace himself at all. WHAM! I just knew the guy was dead; he stayed right where he was, eyes open but glassy and not moving, until two cops came and pulled him up. Dude babbled something like "It's SMOKY in there" and even the cops laughed. They had an ambulance there by the time we got a block down the street, so he was probably OK. I don't think even I ever wiped out that hard. Not at a club, anyway.

Look at this nutty picture