Broken glass everywhere


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Ever have one of those nights where you just don't feel like moving? Let alone going out?

I was pretty content with staying home and watching shows I'd DVR'd before I got tweets saying I should come. All it took was one tweet saying, "there's drinks here waiting on you..." for me to be easily swayed into a shower and a late-night trip to Dharma Lounge.

I should've stayed home.

Sliding in sober just before 1 a.m., there was definitely some catch-up drinking going on. By now I'm desensitized to the weird things you'll see there on a Wednesday night. Buckmaster was doing his thing in the booth, the patio conversation was stimulating. Everybody was being a cool kid on the patio, so the dance floor was empty. All's well until I walk out to the parking lot adjacent to the building,

Parked, literally, under a street light, a few spots down from a parking enforcement vehicle and tons of other cars around, I open my door around 2 a.m., content with getting out of the house being a good idea, and say to myself, "I know I didn't leave my windows down."

I look around and there's glass all over the seats! "FUCK MY LIFE!" coming from my mouth could probably be heard in outer space. Of course they take the messenger bag (that says UNITY Journalists of Color) and a Marshall's tote bag.

It's the contents of those bags, one on the floor board, the other under the seat, that hurt the most. Macbook, camera, digital recorder, iPod and headphones in the messenger bag. The Marshall's tote? My mom's HP Netbook + Bible! They stole a Bible, man!

Steamed, I walk back into the venue to see who saw what. I mean there are security guards like 50 yards away. Nobody's seen a thing, and one Jersey Shore-esque (his hair moreso than anything) guy that works there is going to give ME shit about it. He asks me why I'd have a laptop with me in the first place. I'm sorry I write for a living and don't wander the club, picking up and shaking PBR bottles to determine if the girls acting like you're invisible are done with them or not. I'm sorry I'd planned on writing good things about my night there in Amelie's immediately after. I'm sorry I didn't leave a laptop, whose primary selling point is mobility, at home.

Pissed but trying not to be the angry black guy, I walked away and called the cops.

The bright side to all this was my drunken friends, unintentionally cheering me up. As I stood kind of OK with the whole thing, they were vowing vengeance on whoever did this. Made funnier by the fact that I nearly weigh what they do. I appreciate them riding for the cause though.

Drinks. $15

Good Conversation. Priceless

Finding out insurance is only going to pay for the busted window. Infuriating.


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