In the interim between bands, I bought myself a small, overpriced drink in plastic cup with an incorrect garnish (they are supposed to have cherries! CHERRIES!!!)
I see N.Y. setting up, and maneuever myself into a good spot to see the show and bounce around. And they start - opening with the .. um .. classic "bitch needs a muzzle", then a new song, and then a cover of the Misfits' "Bullet". Joey stops to sing "happy birthday" to some fan, and as it comes to "...happy birthday, dear..."
The power goes out. and stays out.
We were told, after standing there in the dark for half an hour or so, told that we would be given refunds at the door. At the door, a large crowd of angry punks were told that no refund would be given, but hang on to the ticket stubs, a replacement show would be had. Edison trucks were outside, working on underground lines.
On the way out i ran into a guy who I punched in the face at the show a few months ago, the show in anaheim where i got the shit kicked out of me and hurt for weeks later. I walk up to him, and the first thing he says is "Hi - please don't hit me!" Mutual apologies were made, he explained that his friends laughed at him for a week when he had to explain that his black eye came from a girl, and i asked him about his cat. All's well on that front, i guess. just ... weird.
Michael looked bewildered by the conversation until i walked away and explained to him who it was i was talking to.
We left the show, drunk and bouncy with nothing to do. The list of options on a Friday night being short, we went to Ruba, shared a copy of the OC Weekly, and drank overpriced drinks served by snotty emo girls.
The really pathetic thing, in retrospect, is that i cut my vacation short by a day to attend this show. Bastards.