After making his appearance, Jonathan curled up Rip Van Winkle style in the middle of the floor at The Strand and went to sleep. I was mortified and Max considered drawing a Hitler mustache on him. Go figure. We laughed for a few minutes and then I woke him to go look for some food. An argument ensued between Howie Pyro, Jonathan and Boyd Rice on the corner of 12th street and Broadway concerning the cleanliness and rat shit content of Greek diner food. Max interrupted the conversation by informing me very loudly in another attempt to embarass me how much he loved “The Big Apple”. I in turn answered just as loud that it would be better if only I had a map to lead me to the canal. Boyd ended the food conversation by deciding that not eating was better than a shit sandwich and we all disbanded. Howie and Sebastian went one way, Jonathan went back to Red Hook, Brooklyn and I took a car ride to Philly with Max, Wes and Uncle Boyd.
Friday morning I took the Chinatown bus back to NY. Jonathan and Aaron the director were doing marathon interviews around the Lower East Side on foot in the 95 degree humidity. I’m jealous I couldn’t be there to watch the fights that must have been percolating between the two of them all day, but I had my work cut out for me and an air conditioner.
I spent my day indoors, blasting out emails about the show that was about to happen the next night while Jonathan undoubtedly pushed Asian tourists in front of taxi cabs on St Mark’s Place.
At around 6:30 he informed me that we would be having dinner with Joe Coleman and his wife Whitney Ward in midtown so I walked uptown to meet them all at Kean’s Chophouse. Dinner was enjoyed by all. It was good to see JS and Joe Coleman in their element together as they fake stabbed each other’s eyeballs out before the flash of Whitney’s persistent paparazzi camera.
Joe gave Jonathan the book that went with his recent exhibit in Germany in which an entire 4 story museum was dedicated to his art. He then signed it, giving his own version of underground history, capturing the moment JS and I met through a cartoon on the title page. Meanwhile the dinner conversation raged on, gleefully touching on an array of topics that eventually drove everyone else around us out of the restaurant. The whole dinner was being dutifully recorded by Aaron the director, who had appeared like a ghost at the beginning and discreetly wired both Joe and Jonathan with sound for the historical occasion. Whitney and I played with pickles and lobsters while Joe and Jonathan reminisced about the past and shared good words for the future like real brothers.
After dinner, there was much haggling about the bill and finally all parties coughed up their money so we could leave. Aaron the director, his girlfriend, Eden, Joe and Whitney all got in a cab and me and Jonathan blasted off on the bike to meet Howie Pyro who was DJing at a little bar on Orchard.
The vibe soon started getting drunker there so, JS and I made a sneaky exit and ran over to Lit Lounge, a place of many of my worst imaginable memories and experiences so nightmarish that even I do not find them funny.
When we got off the bike I panicked at the thought of going into that grotesque cocaine cabaret. Luckily the guy we were meeting, Carlo Mc Cormick was waiting for us outside to say hello. Even then, I said hello and goodbye in one nervous croak and headed back to 7th street. I still wasn’t done returning emails so it all worked out.
Goodnight my fellow vampires.
Alessandra
Fangtastic!…
I could say something mundane, and I think I just did.