I am so tired. So hopelessly tired and still very much in a high spirited frame of mind. Not like my spirits are up, but more like I drank too many spirits. Who knew you could get drunk off of ghosts? I can’t quite settle down to sleep, so instead I’m going to prattle on a bit until I either pass out or the hour comes to go back into the con and open my table back up.
By nature I’m an observer. I multitask to a sickening degree and this extends to being able to eavesdrop all things going on around me. I like to funnel it all into the blender that is my creative brain and use it as reference fodder for my stories. Tonight one that struck me very spying in on a Romeo & Juliet scene.
Voltaire performed this evening and he is simply one act that cannot be missed. My gent and I were more towards the back sitting on the floor and enjoying the show without having to be in the front crowd of people. At some point my gent had to duck out for a second and while he was gone I happily listened to the show and people watched. This is how I got a small window into this couple.
A young woman was standing not too far away from where I was sitting. She was on her phone and not paying attention to the show. I noticed this because–being of the older fuddy duddy crowd who thinks nothing on your phone is better than what is happening in front of your face–I wondered why she bothered coming to the show if she couldn’t put the cell down for it. Every so often she looked up and around. Honestly she looked nervous. Then a young man swept up behind her and took her by the chin and kissed her.
For a few moments they were oblivious to anything going on around them. They hugged and smooched and whispered to one another. Then, with a great look of despair, the young man pulled himself away and walked across the room and sat down with a group of people. He continued to look over at the young woman longingly, every now and then sneaking a moment with his own phone. He would look at it, type, and then look up at the young woman. She would look at her phone, suddenly smile, and look past people to where he was sitting. For a scene that is being seen totally out of proper context for me, it looked achingly romantic in that way only young love can be.
I stopped watching them there. It felt invasive to continue spying in on whatever private drama they had going on. I only briefly noticed them again after the show was over. The young man and his group walked out and as they passed the young woman he reached out and touched her hair before disappearing into the crowd.
Another observation I had was much more light-hearted.
There was a classic goth style couple standing together looking beautiful. I’m sure, if you’ve been to these events or club shows that aren’t tightly packed, you’ve seen this type of couple. It’s not that they’re in their own world, it’s that they believe they’re in their own scene where everyone is watching and appreciating their dark glamor. Coming from an old goth crowd who has spent more than my spare time in a club, I know these twats well. Yes, I said twats. I say it lightly though. I appreciate them being all dark and sparkly and sharing their pretties with the rest of us; the look at us in it gives me a chuckle though.
Now, in such scenes it is very easy to rile that type of couple up. It just takes one well placed intrusion into the personal space of their scene to muck it all up. In this case it was a lovely gentleman who was really into the music and had not one proper pinch of rhythm in his system. That did not matter one bit though. He was happily grooving to the music in the way he was good with grooving to it and this meant every now and then he stepped too close to the pretty goth scene and obstructed it. This caused the couple to re-position themselves to a different empty area so they could be viewed without distraction. The dancer used it as a means to expand his groove. I did the awful thing of filming two minutes of it because I really was digging the guy’s haphazard style and how much it was ruffling the black feathers of depressed beauty.
Yes, I still have issues with pretty goth types. So sue me. I channeled Stevie Nicks in my style and was more of the shut up and dance sort of gal. Especially at a concert.
The concert was great, as Voltaire always tends to be. Through much of it my gent and I sat hip to hip on the floor together with smiles on our faces. Moments like these with a few of those spirits in our system and he and I turn into sappy-monsters. We’ve both had other long term partners, of course, but I’ve never dated my best friend before. There’s something incredible when you feel so happy to spend so much time with someone. Plus, he gets my sense of humor. Some of my exs didn’t think I was humorous. Shame on them! All in all it was a very good day at the end of a very lovely day.
Aw, precious sleep is sinking in. It’s time for me to lay down and get those last few minutes of sleep in before we begin the last day of the convention. Oh yes… I started with the title of trouble maker didn’t I? On this parting note some dapper (and very drunk gent) with a severely waxed and curling mustache grabbed me by the shoulders and declared to an equally drunk crowd that I was a troublemaker. Yes. I was just as baffled. Ha.