letsgetdownanddirtybaby
Active Member
Luciano Vs Thing 1...both equally blah.
At some point, Luciano took the DJ booth, but for the life of me, I can't seem to remember any part of the set. It just came and went like a big blur. Nothing memorable (bad or good) seemed to happen. I remember drinking and talking to more semi-VIPs as well as giving out all but a couple of the flashy things we had left; but no more than that as far as the music of Luciano is concerned. I wouldn't' t go out of my way to see a Luciano set if it was the only entertainer on the bill and that should say it all. Still, the set was saved by the incredible energy that was already in motion so no harm done.
G was in the middle of refilling a JD and Coke when the vibrator on his phone told him that Phil was calling and must be nearby as planned. We had met Phil serving drinks at one of the bars in the marina area a few days earlier and invited him to party with us at Cocoon. He could never afford VIP on his own so it was my good deed for a Tuesday.
Imagine an English speaking, Italian twenty-something working his way through the summer in Ibiza and the picture in your head will most likely match the stereo type: chick-magnet looks and “chow†attitude.
G let me know he was going downstairs to get Phil and I figure this is great news. If Phil brings his “A†game, I'm sure he'll be dragging beautiful birds back to VIP in no time. I'd take Phil's cast offs without a second of guilt. When G gets to the door, he lets the staff on the inside know he's going to get a friend and they let him pass. The Q is now ridiculous and stretches around the building and out of site. G finds Phil somewhere near the end. Just to make this the most fun an evening can be, Phil has shown up barely able to stand without help. He is literally blitzed beyond being allowed to enter the club. So of course G grabs him out of the line and drags him to the front door. As though right on queue, Thing 1 has appeared out of no where with a smile on his face from ear to ear, “You have to go to the back of the line.â€
G's response is a classic, “Mother F'er, we just paid 700 Euro for a table and you won't let me get back to it?â€
Thing 1 looks at him with arms folded blocking the entrance, ready to spring at any second. Somehow before the Spacely Sprockets in his simple head began to turn the Cogswell Cogs of violence, a manager from inside appears and taps Thing 1 on the shoulder. He gives the motion for a completely pissed Thing 1 to back off and let G and Phil pass. No, none of this is terribly exciting but this is all a premise for things to come so patience please.
G shows back up with Phil who is carrying the three foot long glowing tube that we gave him the day before. It's completely broken on one end and is jagged like a broken bottle. At this point, I still don't know Phil's so messed up since he's wearing sunglasses G gave him to get in the door. Of course when Phil hits the rope and knocks it over, Thing 2 is immediately alerted and gives me the come-here finger. “Are you sure you know how much this cost?†I just stare at him and turn around and go back to my worst table.
At this point, I am ready to throw my wallet at Thing 2. Phil is not helping anything by falling over our table and knocking the rest of the bottle of JD into tiny pieces on the floor. The Phil-chick-magnet factor has kicked in even with him blitzed. A blond haired beauty is at the rail and I am trying to hold any conversation with her after ordering a second bottle of JD with our character-less waitress. Phil is completely oblivious to the girl on the rail and is waving his glow tube/weapon in the air and barely misses the girls face. She grabs the tube and hits him with the other end, drops the tube on the ground and smashes it with her heal. She storms away and I realize I need to get out of this situation. I nod to G that he going to have to baby-sit Phil and I'm off to the dance floor for another adventure.
At some point, Luciano took the DJ booth, but for the life of me, I can't seem to remember any part of the set. It just came and went like a big blur. Nothing memorable (bad or good) seemed to happen. I remember drinking and talking to more semi-VIPs as well as giving out all but a couple of the flashy things we had left; but no more than that as far as the music of Luciano is concerned. I wouldn't' t go out of my way to see a Luciano set if it was the only entertainer on the bill and that should say it all. Still, the set was saved by the incredible energy that was already in motion so no harm done.
G was in the middle of refilling a JD and Coke when the vibrator on his phone told him that Phil was calling and must be nearby as planned. We had met Phil serving drinks at one of the bars in the marina area a few days earlier and invited him to party with us at Cocoon. He could never afford VIP on his own so it was my good deed for a Tuesday.
Imagine an English speaking, Italian twenty-something working his way through the summer in Ibiza and the picture in your head will most likely match the stereo type: chick-magnet looks and “chow†attitude.
G let me know he was going downstairs to get Phil and I figure this is great news. If Phil brings his “A†game, I'm sure he'll be dragging beautiful birds back to VIP in no time. I'd take Phil's cast offs without a second of guilt. When G gets to the door, he lets the staff on the inside know he's going to get a friend and they let him pass. The Q is now ridiculous and stretches around the building and out of site. G finds Phil somewhere near the end. Just to make this the most fun an evening can be, Phil has shown up barely able to stand without help. He is literally blitzed beyond being allowed to enter the club. So of course G grabs him out of the line and drags him to the front door. As though right on queue, Thing 1 has appeared out of no where with a smile on his face from ear to ear, “You have to go to the back of the line.â€
G's response is a classic, “Mother F'er, we just paid 700 Euro for a table and you won't let me get back to it?â€
Thing 1 looks at him with arms folded blocking the entrance, ready to spring at any second. Somehow before the Spacely Sprockets in his simple head began to turn the Cogswell Cogs of violence, a manager from inside appears and taps Thing 1 on the shoulder. He gives the motion for a completely pissed Thing 1 to back off and let G and Phil pass. No, none of this is terribly exciting but this is all a premise for things to come so patience please.
G shows back up with Phil who is carrying the three foot long glowing tube that we gave him the day before. It's completely broken on one end and is jagged like a broken bottle. At this point, I still don't know Phil's so messed up since he's wearing sunglasses G gave him to get in the door. Of course when Phil hits the rope and knocks it over, Thing 2 is immediately alerted and gives me the come-here finger. “Are you sure you know how much this cost?†I just stare at him and turn around and go back to my worst table.
At this point, I am ready to throw my wallet at Thing 2. Phil is not helping anything by falling over our table and knocking the rest of the bottle of JD into tiny pieces on the floor. The Phil-chick-magnet factor has kicked in even with him blitzed. A blond haired beauty is at the rail and I am trying to hold any conversation with her after ordering a second bottle of JD with our character-less waitress. Phil is completely oblivious to the girl on the rail and is waving his glow tube/weapon in the air and barely misses the girls face. She grabs the tube and hits him with the other end, drops the tube on the ground and smashes it with her heal. She storms away and I realize I need to get out of this situation. I nod to G that he going to have to baby-sit Phil and I'm off to the dance floor for another adventure.
