On Saturday night I worked at another of my brother's rave parties. It wasn't so bad, nowhere near as horrific as the one before that, but then this one there was only around 500 of the brats. The vast majority were well behaved this time, too. Maybe it had something to do with the fact I cut my hair on Saturday morning, and thus looked like somebody not to be trifled with. I will admit that I'm pretty good at cutting my own hair now. Just as long as I don't do it when I've had too many beers.
So here I am at the rave on Saturday night; it was at a go-kart track, in the parking lot thereof. Me and my glow products were right at the front entrance where the kids were coming in, it was a pretty exciting spot throughout the night because that's where the security guys were. Right next to me I watched two kids get searched for drugs; one was a boy who was obviously speeding hard, he was flipping and flopping like a rubber man, jaws working a million miles an hour, tongue flicking out like a lizard. They didn't find any drugs on him so he was let go. Then a girl was searched, they didn't find any drugs on her either. The security honchos looked crestfallen.
In another action-packed scene: the security guys went flying past me and out the front gate, yapping excitedly into their headsets. Apparently some kid had left without taking his wristband off. See, it wasn't exciting after all, but the way the security guys were acting, you would have thought it was something to do with a bomb, or a high powered assault rifle.
Another comical incident was when one of the security dudes dragged a kid out and ejected him from the venue. He told us what happened: he was walking around the dance area and right next to him one kid said "Aw man how did you get in?" and the other kid proudly exclaimed: "I snuck in! Huh huh!!!" so the security guy goes: "Clever boy!" and grabs him and takes him out. That kid visibly regretted his loud mouth.
Meanwhile, I was sitting on a plastic chair selling glo-sticks to all and sundry. Those things are popular, kid. But not all those little brats are happy to pay $5.00 each for 'em, they make that quite clear. "Aw, five bucks?!", they ask me, wringing their hands and looking about to burst into tears. I admit to them that I find it hard to empathise when they have surely blown a coupla hundred bucks on Ecstasy already. The poor darlings. Blub!
Something else that made the night much more tolerable was when at 2:30am my dear brother (the Rave King) tells me to pack up, we're outta there! Hallelujah!
Another thing that made it a good night was that this place was in a quiet industrial area. At every one of these things going to the toilets for me is pure hell because you know, these kids piss all over the floor, there's about a million of them in the bathroom, and they are very loud, and there will be two of them in a cubicle with their drug bags. Man, I was there once, but I'm an old bastard now at 34 years, and a man wants to piss in peace. So this time I just walked out the gate, up the street a ways and found, to my Great Joy, an empty block, quiet and dark. I had a truly Glorious piss in that empty block, my friends. It was a true highlight of the evening.
And now I don't work at another rave party until November. Amen.