cracked/Original Punk (part 5 of a series)
There she was off to the right,at one of the few tables in the place.Michelle had a way of drawing people around her, relaxed and confident she aspired to be a singer. I had met her in the strangest of ways-the Culture Club fan club. Just as Boy George was starting to freak out American parents on MTV, I was drawn in and 2yrs before going to NY I had joined the fanclub. It was having a special event in Florida-front rowseats, meeting the band and staying at one hotel with a bunch of other CC freaks from all over. Long story short- I met Michelle and was invited to a party she planned for the following year in Brooklyn, and that is when I discovered NYC. Now I was living in her basement while her and her mom, sister and crazy old aunt lived in the upstairs of a large Brownstone. "Shellie!!, over here" I made my way to the booth and tried not to knock over any beers as Michelle made a space for me next to her and I squeezed into the spot. "Where you been? We got to go and hear Mike's brother's band." Before I could answer she had grabbed my hand and was pulling me out the door. I was always ready to follow her, she could get you into any bar or club and usually for free, so I stuck my beer under my jacket and we headed towards St. Marks Place. Passing the boy with the blue hair I handed my half empty beer to him, and ran to catch up with Michelle who was stopped in front of a broken down stoop,smoking a djarum. "This is it." I looked around for some idea of where to go but nothing was there except for music- where was it coming from? Suddenly from below the stoop a bright light shone and revealed crumbling stairs. A thick metal door swung open and 2 skinheads came out from the hidden club. We went in and followed the music thru a maze of pipes and dark corners. Creepy. Not the place- but Mike. I could see it in his eyes and he saw it in mine, the it was her.