Went to Dayton's tree lighting ceremony because the Danny Voris Project was playing with Stephanie singing, and I wouldn't miss that for anything. Armed with two pairs of socks and my government-issue polypro long underwear, I braved the cold for yet another stunning performance. I stood back and kept my distance during the performance, and afterward, as she was greeted off the stage by a gaggle of young people I figured were either friends or family. I moved closer to catch her attention, and after exchanging a nice big hug for a congratulation on a great show, I asked if she was doing anything afterward. She apologized and said that she was going out with her friends, but maybe later. I told her that's cool, I'll default to plan B: going to Fusion and dancing my ass off to goth/industrial techno. She says for me to go have fun and pick up lots of hot women. I reply "Pfffbbbbt!"

Since the event was winding down, a pizza vendor was selling pizza half price, so I bought two slices of pepperoni and at them on Courthouse Square. It was so cold tonight, I got the best of both worlds. The first slice was still nice and warm, but the second was more like the leftover slice the morning after out of the fridge. Pizza heaven. :-)

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So it's about 8pm, and Fusion is closed! What gives? After driving circles around downtown Dayton (as every goddamn street is 1-way), I pass a place called Hammerjax, which I hear all the people at work talk about going to. It has radio ads on all the stations, and supposedly it's Dayton's hottest dance club. So I park down the street and stop by.

It's got the whole velvet rope and dude with a clipboard and headset routine, just like in the movies, but I ask if I can get in, and he says "Sure!". Inside I check my coat, and I'm finding it kinda weird that it's the only one on the rack. Around the corner, I enter the room where the pop music is disorientingly loud, the multi color lights flash and move all over the place, and it's empty. I'm the only one there.

I feel like I've stepped into the twilight zone... or a nightmare sequence from a David Lynch movie.

At the bar, I hand the bartender my newly-activated debit card, and drink several bottles of Coors Light while watching muted Comedy Central. Occasionally, I glance behind to the empty facility, hoping to spot anybody, but to no avail. An HOUR AND A HALF later, two guys come in and sit at the bar. It's 10 fucking 30, and It's me and two guys. I cash out and leave, feeling like the victim of a cruel prank.

Is that it? Is that the end-all, be-all pinnacle of what we call fun? Shit, I could've spent a lot less than $12 to spend two hours putting on a mild beer buzz and staring at a wall. I was planning on going out again tomorrow night, but now I'm not so sure. That place was like a nightmare come to life, and it's supposed to be the best place to be. I should just stay home and watch TV with Mom and Chuck. Every time I've gone out by myself, it's been nothing short of a total disaster. I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.

At least Danny Voris' band put on a great show, and all hope is not lost! My old skool posse may remember me writing sometime late last winter about seeing a band called Sizter Machyne. Well, December 3, they're playing at the Brewery here in Troy. (not a real brewery. it was at one point back in the day, but it's just a bar with a postage-stamp sized dance floor and rap dj's.) I'm planning on having a much better time next weekend. :-)