2004, the old Cinespace on Hollywood Boulevard one wet Tuesday night in April – who can forget!
How the traffic backed all the way down Fountain and glimmered like a long, glittery thread weaving horizontally through the city–and that everything sparkled after the grit was washed away.
Just past 10pm, the nondescript venue above a rain-slicked Walk Of Stars. Here we were, three new friends crammed among other serious-faced concert-goers all breathing the same wild, electric air.
Us, in our purposefully ripped jeans, purple lipstick and asymmetrical haircuts; me: who nearly slipped and fell in the boots I bought with my first paycheck as I gestured wildly with one hand, happily teetering with a second vodka tonic cradled sideways in the other…
Just an hour left before happy hour ends, we dutifully reminded each other as we huddled together, nestling into the bar as the drinks flowed and everybody laughed like we were all in on the best secret.
A young Steve Aoki manned the turntables and the Cobrasnake captured the scene with a vintage Polaroid camera, frozen moments in time of the popular kids – oh, anyone but us! We packed together, necks swiveling simultaneously for a microscopic moment when Katy Perry sashayed freely through the crowd all blue hair, pink lips and mascara.
The stage lights began to dim and one of the girls turned to me. She wore high-top vintage sneakers and cat-eye glasses. If we were any less cooler she would’ve said We’re going to be friends for the rest of our lives, I just know it
But instead she said something witty about the lead singer of the band which was basically the equivalent of saying the less cooler thing, because the meaning was exactly the same and it turned out to be right.
The drummer raised his sticks, 1-2-3-4. A drop, a quiver of excitement hung in the air before they crashed down and everything exploded and the crowd surged to the front of the room and there was a flash of blue light then purple then white and yellow all swirling; thick smoke from a fog machine or was it someone’s blunt and all of a sudden the exit signs were gone and I thought maybe it’s better when the edges are fuzzy; and maybe it was telepathy or the smiles or the alcohol, the nodding of all of our heads in unison but we knew, we just knew that we had arrived.