All Aboard

The roommates and I, inexplicably it seems, had a rousing conversation the other night about "running the train". No idea how it started, or even how it ended (we were drunk) but I do recall laughing my ass off when one of our friends who was also over our place, who had not taken part in the discussion during its initial moments blurted out innocently something along the lines of "hell naw, that shit never happens."

Oh yes, yes it does, my friend.

Without any further ado, here goes my favorite "A party crashed by train-runners" story, witnessed hilariously (and perhaps unfortunately, given the really random circumstances of it) by me.

Rewind to Junior year in college. My then roommates and I throw a bit of a party at our apartment on a rather "meh" Friday night. Around 15 other people show up by 10pm, and nothing crazy or particularly monumental happens over the course of the first hour over the sound of ping pong balls careening helplessly across the kitchen thanks to errant shots at the beirut table. Then, four people just walk in our place (a girl and three dudes), and while it wasn't like a scene from the movies where the record skips and all attention is drawn to them, as the four slowly make their way through our living room, one-by-one heads turn and the occasional "who are they?" whisper floats through the air. I notice them right away myself, but I'm not alarmed...while I have no clue who the fuck they are, and it's obvious no one here invited them, they did bring their own booze and, hey, it's college; perhaps the only four years where brazenly walking into a party uninvited is more or less acceptable.

They plop on our couch and while they made little effort initially to introduce themselves to anyone, they seemed perfectly pleasant when I took it upon myself to say "hi", and at that point the largest of the men, while never even saying his name, just hands me a beer and smiles. Nowadays, you walk uninvited into my place at anytime and I'm going to want a verbal explanation, but again, this is during college; where the mere "gift of alcohol" is something akin to major powers brokering a peace treaty. Further attempts to chat them up a little (or, in other words, find out a goddamn name our two at least) go basically nowhere, so I just leave them be.

I completely forget about them, and seemingly so did everyone else since almost all of us where huddled around the kitchen, and after another hour or so I turn back towards our living room to say hi again to my "new friends...sort of" only to find their 30-rack on the table. "The fuck? They just left their beer and took off? SWEET!" While alcohol was a-plenty otherwise, we all dive in like vultures, or at least I did so more like a hyena since I was giggling maniacally (I'd been pregaming since 8pm and was well on my way towards Plasteredville) and pounded a few down without a second thought. Party continues, a few more people come and go, but at least we know THESE newcomers, and all is well.

Fast-forward to sometime around 2:00am. The party is starting to wind down, partly because of one my roommate's declaration that he had to work in the morning. I'm contemplating spending the night in my own bed or calling up the girl I was kinda/sorta seeing at the time, and doing so standing in the middle of our short hallway, when I feel a blast of air coming from behind me, and upon turning around, guess who I see leaving my roommate's bedroom?

I imagine because of the alcohol I had consumed, I thought nothing weird whatsoever about the four strangers leaving my roommate's bedroom at such a time. I actually apologized, for fuck's sake, about thinking they had left for good and drinking their beer, and was still a good few minutes away from understanding the shit-eating grin on all three of the guy's faces when they each told me "no problem, man". The girl, still without saying a single word to me, or anyone throughout the whole night, ducked into our bathroom for some time before finally meeting her three...whatevers....at our door and leaving...like for real, this time. The actual roommate in question, whose bedroom was "used", was still fucking around in the kitchen and never saw them exit, and briefly blamed me for the fact his bedroom door was wide open and the light was on. He had less to drink than I did that night, so you can imagine his lack of haste and understanding when I tried to explain to him it was "those" four who apparently were in there the whole time.

Just a couple minutes later, while in our bathroom myself, I hear said roommate exclaim "WHAT...THE....FUCK!!!" I run out, and he's standing by his bed with a look of horror, pointing to the floor.

Rubbers. Lots of them. Just scattered.

Used rubbers, by the way, in case I'd failed to set up the scene I was too drunk to interpret at the time. Lots of them. Just scattered.

By now, for me, it had finally come together, and I laughed like hell. My roommate looked like he wanted to punch me, but even he himself began to laugh. The other two roommates who had just gone to bed heard the commotion and were just stumbling out of their rooms, to find us two laughing, one of us pointing to a mass grave of used rubbers at floor of his bed.

I wasn't even disgusted (the fact it wasn't MY bed helped), just, amused and somewhat flabbergasted. Seriously...who just picks a random apartment, then goes into a random bedroom, and then initiates THIS of all things? Really? Is it supposed to add an element of danger or some shit?

I never saw those four again around campus...not that I spent my last three semesters of college actively looking for them or anything, but a part of me wanted to track down one of those guys (I doubt the female would talk about it) and be like, "I'm not mad, but, just, WHY?"

And in case any superheroes want to assume the worst about the situation, I can remember clearly the girl being just fine and sober both when entering and upon leaving...so, yeah, it was voluntary alright.

Why they picked our joint, no idea.

Oontz oontz oontz oontz

Been on an electronica kick recently, and I'm not terribly sure why. I went through a phase when I was about 18-19 years old listening to all kinds of stuff by Underworld, Orbital and others almost around the clock, but stopped and had only intermittently listened to it since...until about last month.

I bought Daft Punk's Alive a couple years ago but almost never listened to it. During a road trip recently, I gave it a spin, only to do it again, and again...hell, the entire 6 hours on the way there was a constant barrage of the French duo's live beats emanating from my vehicle on the interstate. I remember the big fuss about the Alive tour back in either '06 or '07 but the actual album cuts I had heard from them never really moved me (I thought it was decent but not "HOLY SHIT I MUST SEE THIS GROUP" material). Back in 2001 one of my high school friends was all about them when they first got big, but I was still in my alt-rock phase and was pretty indifferent to what they were doing at the time.

That said, Alive is a very good live compilation because Daft Punk was smart enough to do track mash-ups, which is a must for any electronica/house group. Rock groups and other musicians unfortunately get a pass for going onstage and usually playing songs exactly the same fucking way they're played on the album, all in front of fans who have paid God-knows-what to see them. Because DJ's are usually hidden behind their gadgets and whatever light show emanates behind them, for them especially it's imperative to do something a little different onstage for the paying audience. They can't just put their guitar behind their head and adlib a solo in full view of everyone, because they don't have fucking guitars. They can't interact with the audience by stating "I wrote this song about..." because people who would see a Daft Punk don't give a shit and just want to dance. The whole "heard and barely seen" aura of electronica groups in concert puts a real emphasis on the actual sonic output, and for that I give them a lot of respect. REM could go on stage, play random folk music on ukuleles for two hours and Michael Stipe could go on random political outbursts and I'd bet every single person would leave the arena thinking "BEST SHOW EVER, MAN". What, they didn't play "What's the Frequency Kenneth?" Who cares, Michael "interacted" with us, yo!....bands who actually play instruments and say stuff are elevated to such levels by their fans, that I don't think said fans would know when they've been had (I think REM is fucking amazing, btw).

I still personally prefer "rock" to electronica, but I give electronica groups more credit since they have to take the stage, and figuratively fire automatic weapons into the crowd and make them dance and have a good time. Your token rock band gets to play in front of thousands who have probably memorized all of their lyrics and bought into whatever image they've projected, and are generally mindless drones marching on the orders of their dear leader, Mr. or Ms. "Really deep songwriter". Big difference.