I ALMOST DIED LAST NIGHT (again)

i know that i got hit by a car last week ((or "slammed by an audi biking downtown", my friends tell me rolls off the tongue a little better)), and that i could have died and all that jazz.. but i think this one was worse.

>>> last night i was at the fonda. slint was playing. i showed up late, around 11. my friend marisa was supposedly somewhere inside. i go in, watch the band for maybe 20 minutes, then decid they sound like shit, that my dogs sound better when they're dry humping each other in unison, and that what i really want to do is find my friend to help pass time. i search the crowd for a solid yet unsuccessful 10 minutes, then decided to continue upstairs on the smoking patio... again, unsuccessful, i figured screw it, i'll find her after - then stand behind a couch to start taking notes. there was this british couple complaining soooo inhumanly loud that "this shit isn't post rock - who the hell said it was post rock? i can't believe we paid for this." i'm writing all this down (honestly, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot to say about the music other than it sounded like mars volta only with cedric on a shit load of acid.)

maybe two minute into this process i look up - and that's when i see them. this couple MAAADDOGGING ME. seeeriously just STARRING at me. HARDCORE. just gawking... to the point where i wasn't sure if a bird just took a massive crap on my face or if i was about to seriously get my ass kicked.

i let the moment register and then after a second i go, "um, can i help you with something?'

"no," the guy replies. "we're just watching you."

cool. again, this couple is STARING - the girl is thin and blonde but i'm waiting for her to start foaming at the mouth anyhow.

"well can you stop please?"

to this the guy explains that he saw me taking notes, and thought i was writing down his conversation, and he's just really paranoid right now because he's not from here and he's drunk.

"don't worry," i say, "i am reporter" - which i am - and "don't worry, i'm not writing down you're conversation" - which i was.

fucking paranoid. turns out the guy was from kentucky, freshly moved to la. what is it that they say, you have about a 2 year gestation period after moving to the city before you're ready to shoot up your landlord? yeah, if that equation's correct then this guy's got at least 6 years. he's ready to shoot up the whole city.

he said that he was a friend of the band's and then fed me some this inside information (apparently they ARE getting back together) that i was grateful to receive but also could've given two shits about at that point becasue i was more focused on the fact that i could have gotten my throat a second ago over there.

"in the know"/"friend of the band" or not, this guy was fucking drunk and paranoid and from kentucky, and i cannot think of a better example of "smile, nod, run."