So last month at Home Bass [oh some of you don’t know what Home Bass is? Well Home Bass is to R4$ what Limp Bizkit is to Belle and Sebastian. Draw your own conclusions but be sure to cast your aspersions on one side or the other [oh some of you don’t know what R4$ is? It stands for Rocking for Dollars which is an event that takes place at an alternative lifestyle bar known as Ref’s, which stands for Reflections. Home Bass is also an event and also takes place at Ref’s. At R4$ desperate local bands and ill-equipped duos drag their reluctant skeletons through 15 minute sets and receive both a pitcher of draft and a spin of a wheel for their efforts. Sometimes a band wins money spinning that wheel, more often than not no one wins anything of any value and all parties involved amble back to their respective ramshackle hovels disheveled, Home Bass is an alternating genre DJ night where young adults dance with molly] we were freak dancing with some old friends who normally wouldn’t be out freak dancing were it not for our influence.
Now I know more than the next guy that Trap is dead, and it was Trap night, but you have to understand that Erica only recently mastered the sensual art of the now ubiquitously referenced twerk, and I’m still in my first 2 months of my investigation into the world of MDMA, so we were getting pretty into it. Not that it was good, my god, especially when these shmucks felt the need to subject us to an “original”, but we’ll be damned if we resign to the fact that our local dance scene is dominated by untalented fucktards by not dancing our cum out as hard and impressively as possible to a captive audience of thirsty chickens in there twenteens.
One of the “old friends” that was uncharacteristically out with us that night was Kyle. Now Kyle is an odd bird. I’ve known him for like 10 years or more, I don’t really want to think about exactly how long, who cares, but however long I’ve known him he has been exactly the same the whole time. He’s a Prehistoric Emo, a scarf enthusiast, and a neurotic mess.
He had been in Ontario for like 4 months and while he was gone both Erica and I found ourselves wishing he was around for some reason. When he’s in the city we would barely think of hanging out with him but all of the sudden he’s gone and we want what we can’t have more than anything REGARDLESS. So we Skype him up one night during a weekend at Erica’s parent’s place in the valley after getting stupid high in the basement and deciding it would be a good idea to invite him into our first MMF threeway experience together.
During the Skype call we “met” Kyle’s SISTER which is so fucked you guys that Kyle has a sister like I never knew that and she’s like 14 and SOOOOO hot you guys. Dick twitches for days. Anyway he started being really protective of her trying to shelter her from our insistent sexuality and undressing eyes, he made her leave eventually which is when we dropped the bomb and he said he was down, and basically that’s how the Skype convo ended.
Fast forward he’s back in town and we have a night picked out to get our Chinese finger trap on but this schlemiel “triple books” the night and ends up going to a show in Dartmouth that he had promised to attend before our plans were laid. Questionable decision, or perhaps not questionable enough for my taste is more to the point. Dark path for life.
Yet we gracefully forgive this egregious slight and a few days later - if only as an afterthought - we call him up while we are getting ready for Home Bass.
Now for the ancillary characters.
We start feeling out the night’s vibe getting high at our place with my best friend Keegan (#seaglitch #postpost #half Chinese #gay #acidpop/#surrealist #tattoo #artist/#bass player) and Erica’s old pal Ivan (#psychonaut #weedbot #listener/#easygoing #fun lovin’ #Nordic lookin’ #teddy bear #bee keeper #whaaaat?!) and Kyle shows up with our mutual friend Kaylan (#cutegirl #northend #records #lipstick #dreamy #florist) and we form a dance circle conversing in an inherently wild yet ostensibly muted version of our usual dramatica due to the stifling influence of such a semi-relevant reunion of misfits. Last to arrive is Erica’s other old friend Cara (#circuschic #freaklife #sadomasochist #industrialgoth #Aryan #contortionist #slut from the threesome coyly referenced in my previous post “Scene Missing”).
Erica and I had parachuted some pure crystal MDMA when our first guests had arrived that had by this point opened to cradle the sky keeping us blissfully floating in the tranquility and exhilaration of our descent.
From there Kyle, Kaylan and I split up with the rest of the gang because KYLE has to go to Kaylan’s to get his I.D. before we all meet back up at Khylan’s (#gay/#K boy I magically resuscitated and unintentionally entranced from previous post “We’ve Been Busy”). So I walk with Kyle and Kaylan to Kaylan’s where Kaylan gives Kyle her keys and we leave Kaylan there and Kyle and I head to Khylan’s.
Are you with me? Good. Alright.
So we #cablife it and meet back up with everyone, arriving just minutes after them since they were hoofing it. The gathering at Khylan’s is too chill to appreciate in our vibrating excitable state so we pound shots of vodka and swerve, promising to come back after Ref’s.
At Home Bass we dance hard. At one point I drop to my knees and Erica shimmies her pussy up and down on my face. We occasionally get literally violent with each other in the middle of the dance floor. We dance on the raised platforms, we dance in the drink line, we dance in and out of the bathrooms. We bump and grind into a bunch of friends and the congratulate us on our ability to dance so impressively.
Cara points out a dude to me and says he’s been creeping on her, the roommate of a guy she was fucking apparently, and tells me to play the part of her overly protective boyfriend when ever he came sniffing around. Not the first time Cara and I have joined forces to manipulate someone’s perception of reality by means shadow theater. So having enjoyed working with her on a previous project I agreed to the boondoggle. Unbeknownst to me - Cara had already told Erica that she just wanted to fuck this guy and wanted us to help “tease” him. Now I’m not sure if either of those scenarios are true but at the end of the day who cares. No part is too small.
The night throbs on and we suddenly find ourselves spilling into the smoking street in the dwindling cabaret hours. At this inopportune point Kyle decides he wants to do some MDMA. So I hold his unnecessarily nervous hand through the whole process and eventually close the deal with a rando. So wonderful, we cut out, Kyle pops his pill, Erica and I hang on to ours and we walk a couple of blocks to be back at Khylan’s.
We crack the pill and rail and begin to readjust ourselves to the urban Bedouin tent that is Khylan’s world. Everyone there is happy we are back, new friendships are attempting to form themselves through us, Cara barters a hand-stand twerk for a bunch of Ritalin that her and Erica promptly assimilate into their respective wavelengths and the after party seems to be breathing new vibes into our team …
… save Kyle.
Kyle lets us know at this point that he is “uncomfortable” and wants to head back to our place. We struggle with this briefly but ultimately concede and regretfully inform our gracious host and his bevy of young idiosyncratic beauties that we are all sticking together and leaving due to Kyle’s unjustifiable discomfort. I mean it’s ridiculous, honestly Khylan’s place is the last word in comfort. Everyone is visibly and vocally disapproving of this decision as we basically agree with them that it’s lame as fuck only to add “it is what it is”.
Kyle weirdly insists on showering as soon as we get back to our place. Ivan goes to work rolling joints on the living room floor as Cara , Erica and myself lounge on our day bed. The conversation is dominated by Ritalin, that is to say Erica and Cara begin and refuse to end a sprawling and manically enthusiastic retelling of their past experiences together. Like, all of them. To each other. Screaming into each other’s smiling mouths. Kyle emerges and awkwardly snuggles in with us.
Since Cara had fucked Erica and I she had inexplicably landed in a monogamous relationship with some vanilla dude. Since this was the case Cara had expressed to Erica that she couldn’t fuck around with us because she was trying to turn over a new leaf for this guy. As anyone who has ever tried to betray their instincts can attest - it can be difficult.
Every time I leave the group in the living room Cara sneaks away after me and we make out like we’ll die if we don’t. I go to look for Erica’s hair brush and Cara follows me into the bedroom, grabbing at my dick biting and kissing me occasionally yelling out “we can’t find it just a second!” type shit. I go to the washroom she busts in and starts ravaging me again, I choke her out against the wall while licking her lips and tongue, drop her and walk back to the living room where we all go back to listening to Cara and Erica’s shared life story.
I was too in the moment to even perceive of Cara actions as anything other than fun, but in hindsight she was clearly getting off with me behind the scenes because she didn’t want Erica to know she couldn’t hold fast. As if I was going to keep the secret … then again who knows why Cara does what she does.
This continues to be the scene until the bitter end, but before the night tapers off Kyle asks if he can go “relax for a bit” by himself in our bedroom. We allow this, as we had begrudgingly indulged every other imposing request of the night.
Kyle falls asleep in our bed.
Ivan is visiting from the valley and had planned to crash with us, but now has no where to sleep as we are all still in the day bed (our only option for seating/sleeping in the living room).
As the sun comes up Cara bows out to walk home and sleep in her own bed instead of ending the night with Erica and I as we had planned, presumably because Ivan’s presence is not conducive to sexy/intimate times. Yet again, Cara motivations are amorphous at best.
Not long after Erica and I reach our limit with Kyle. We will not be forced to sleep in our own living room with Ivan, who is still in and out of consciousness at the foot of the daybed, intermittently rolling and smoking joints, laughing at something and then sinking back into a snoring puddle ad infinitum.
I rouse Kyle and inform him that he must depart and go sleep it off at Kaylan’s - the place he was intended to crash as you’ll remember - so that we might reclaim our own chosen comfort-zone after so many concessions to placate him. After a few attempts to deliver this message effectively he groggily acknowledges and slumber-lumbers out into the living room where he fucking CRAWLS INTO BED WITH IVAN and GOES BACK TO SLEEP. .
Once relocated to our bedroom Erica and I stuff the edges of our curtains with various his and hers jump-suits, I give Erica a deep massage, the resultant moans surely being misinterpreted as sex from the other side of the wall. We crash into a deep sleep ruing Kyle on the way.
Why did I tell this story? I told it because this experience taught us a few valuable lessons and hopefully they will be passed on through this post.
First off - don’t over-romanticize your friends when they are away for an extended period. Remember they are just the same person you occasionally like to hang out with. Surely it would at least be advisable to refrain from offering to fuck your friends when they return from wherever they have traveled. Just wait until they get back to see if you might have come to that desire erroneously. Just feign the compunction if you have to.
Secondly - learn from Kyle’s cautionary example. Don’t make an entire group of people cater to your every whim just because you know they are accommodating. We haven’t talked to him since this debacle and this was like a month ago. I’m not even sure when we’ll feel like seeing him again. Even the most accommodating hosts have their limits.
Last but not least - if you want to enjoy yourself sometimes you have to make the hard call on the spot to cut the dead weight from your party. We should have told Kyle he was being shitty and to leave or suck it up long before the sun was coming up.
People don’t assume such an intrusive modus operandi in a vacuum, our silence and passivity as friends and family allow these predilections to form and gain strength in people. This is a systemic error in our culture that we must address. I’m not sure but I have a feeling this may be a distinctly Canadian problem.
Thanks or reading this, and our apologies go out to our faithful followers for the radio silence on here as of late, but it only means we’ve been living life and saving the stories and pictures that we will now put forth. I meant to post this right after it happened but am only just now finding the time to spin the yarn. Start getting excited to see why it’s been so long between posts.