nsssnniiiiifffff-hthmnnnn (I don't know. sigh?)

The Khyber Club. When did I start going to the Khyber?

I can vividly remember my first time going. It was 1999 and we were going to see Elevator Through. We lived in the North End and were probably at the Woodill Street house beforehand. I was too stoned and hungry, so we went into Pita Boys on the way (where Extreme Pita is now). I told KC what I wanted and ran to the bathroom in a panic attack. Not an anxiety attack. I had to put my head between my knees and breathe slowly to control the hyperventilation. A knock at the door. I had taken too long, made a scene, the food was ready. I stood, splashed water on my face (dried it) and went out to eat.

I'm pretty drunk to be going to a bar. I won't get more, I'll just watch the show.

It's a nice old building. We go up the few steps and inside it's crawling with people, and smokey. I sign in as his guest. Apparently, he's a member and has played there. (I don't like crowds. I'm not used to this. I never went out much. Who are all these people? Gosh it's smokey.) I look around, trying to process everything. My head turns, eyes dart, and all the while I'm trailing behind KC, being pulled into a sea of people. A girl winks at him (Oh her. She's in that band), he does that smile and wave thing and maybe he winks back (at least I think he does). I feel those waves again. Uh-oh.

We settle in somewhere, maybe we get a drink, maybe we smoke. I'm still very uncomfortable. All these people around. I can't seem to find a place to stand. The stage is in the back corner, what became the smoking area, and had the Ms. Pacman machine for awhile; to the right, by the door to the washrooms. I feeling light, or numb, or tingley. Seeing stars maybe. I bend over. "Are you okay?" "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I'll be okay." I still can't see the band, I don't know where to look. I don't want to stare at anyone, everyone's bumping into me and each other; touching me. I look around. Turn my head. Can't listen to the music because I'm so freaked out, nervous, distracted, light-headed. "I'm gonna go get some fresh air." KC nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. They let you through rather easily if you're heading away from the stage. I go outside and am hit with the fresh air and a wall of silence. No, quieter music, but cars, people, and music from other buildings. I sit on the steps and light a cigarette. KC comes out behind me. "Oh, no, you don't have to come out. You should enjoy the show. I'm okay. I just need to relax." He sits, we talk, we go home when the cigarette is done, I was very apologetic and thankful.

I didn't return for awhile.

Last year I translated some blog text from and back into english.