December 27, 2015
A young group of girls were dominating the dance floor up by the decks, respectably young, not dangerously young but still highly corruptible. From the bar I watched a crew of Brooklyn MC’s saunter through the crowd, passed Zack and his employee/girlfriend dancing at the back. I expected a lot of people to at least drop by, if the timing played out right it would be an interesting mix. Lana’s crew from the fashion world, various peeps from music scenes we had met over the years, everyone’s various workmates and crews from back home – throw them all together and see what haoppens.
New Yorkers loved to party outside of the traditional venues. What they loved even more is the bragging rights to the experience. The Instafame. If you want to show a girl/guy you are know the scene, you bring them somewhere like this. #crashtheloft you fuckers.
* * *
I sucked in a breath before greeting another group, pounding firsts with some guy in a Run DMC tee. He’s with the cute girl I always used to chat to at Blue Bottle, the one with the big lips, I scrape the bottom of my mind for her name as we hug but loose the focus when I feel her breasts against my chest, surrounding the side of my body. Squeezing myself between backs, scraping sweaty shoulders, I make towards the entrance. I thought I felt a drip of sweat from the roof, or from someone’s body or drink, part of the overall fluid exchange. It hadn’t seen so many familiar people in one confined space a long time, it made the best tracks kill even more.
Outside Danny gives me his “What the Fuck?” face. We had no trouble initially, but as more people started to hear about it the door was getting swamped. He took a hit from a metal hit flash and took up my offer of a smoke.
“We had to turn away this crew of young guys. Thought they were gonna rush me for a second, one of those Brooklyn boys from that Bedstuy crew backed me up. That gave em second thoughts. Didn’t stop them chucking a couple bottles when they got down the street though.” He said between drags.
“That a boy. Right man for the job. You need anything?”
“Nah. I’m cool. The boys are looking after me whenever they come out. How’s it inside? Any trouble?”
“All good for now dude. Still space. Hot and pretty rammed. But there is still space. The toilet is struggling. Feel sorry for the girls.” I said.
Just as I was about to head up Emma and Andre roll up with Charlotte and another dude.
“Hey. How’s it all going?” she says, looking fresh and supple like she had sprung from a cocoon and showered in morning rain.
” Yeah good. You’re in for an interesting one. Might have a few surprises.”
A combined wave of sound and heat hit as we came to the top of the stairs, two sweat soaked guys pushed passed on their way out. The MCs voice bellowed out over the room, three girls from the dance crew were running a coordinated routine in the middle, their bodies popped left and right, throwing everyone into a frenzy.
I helped Emma and co get setup with drinks from the bar, grabbed a cold bottle of Patron and let the freezer air roll up my arms and onto my face. A neighbor from two lofts down slapped me on the back, his jaw and eyes giving him away, well into the vibe. I caught the raw look of disgust on Charlotte’s face as Jay came up to us, “Stay away from me!” She said, “sister fucker. You are so gross.” She turned and disappeared into the crowd leaving Jay with a ‘I’m guilty, but give me a break’ look on his face. Classic.
I wasn’t going to miss out on play to this crowd, I grabbed the bottle of Patron and headed up to the decks. The guy spinning had a huge sweat patch on his back that was about to join the one from his arms. We banged shots and I took over.
“Can I please get a little local love for this evening’s host! Crash the loft ya’ll.” The MC belted to raised hands, chants and whistles. I threw on an upbeat Pete Rock remix to capitalize as he started spitting about the heat and cold beers.
Pushing the up tempo a bit with some faster tunes then bringing it back with hip hop classics. It was too tempting not to hear the whole place chanting, I had to drop a new twist on Ratatat’s classic Party and Bullshit remix. It never got old. Some hilarious shenanigans were starting to go down on this dancefloor.
Emma appeared by my side, looking great in a cropped white t-shirt, and leaned into me she said that Darnell was keen to jump and jam with me. I wiped at my forehead, squeezed a deep breathe out, this was about to get to a new level of crazy. Apparently Vince, Darnell and crew had rolled in and were chilling in my room.
As he makes his way up Hip hop heads surrounded the decks, a couple of shawtys duck through them to get up front. I cut the tunes entirely for him to launch some setup bravado before dropping into a series of my own tunes. Zack brought us up a couple of beers, Darnell went for the tequila instead. I looked down from some pretty extreme faces to check my phone.
<On our way. Looks dope. What’s address again?>
Before I had a chance to check when he sent it, he was standing behind us. HudMo was the perfect dude to switch gears, he wasn’t massive over here but everyone would know some of his tunes. We stepped back and watched the place switch from hip hop into more of an upbeat vibe. After hanging for a bit, a crew of us retreated to my room, now packed with Vince & Darnell’s crew, some extremely sexy girls, and a splattering of other people I knew and didn’t. Someone had brought a case of Champagne and everyone was drinking it from red plastic cups or straight from the bottle.
“Yo, Mason. That was tight,” Darnell said, jumping up from the couch, “Let’s get this dude in for a jam sometime.”
Vince smiled like he had run of the show. “We on it D. We have been prepping him already, I’ll set it up.”
I glanced at Andre on the couch who was rolling his eyes and smiling.
A bunch of us danced, Emma was right in front of me, one of those moments when you’re not sure if it is on purpose or not, but you convince yourself it is. I had one of my hands hanging from my pocket and I felt the slight brush of what must have been her silk skirt, she moved back or I moved forward but I felt the fabric crush in slightly and the round of her against me. Was on purpose. It had to be on purpose?