i used to demand they play this at the trasheteria when i was in university. it was perhaps the peak of my dancing frenzy: i generally went out to shake my moneymaker four nights a week back then, so you can imagine why they took my requests seriously. well, there was that, and the fact i was helping one of their bouncers (i called him thor), and one of my oldest friends, aaron, run an after-hours boozecan when the bars closed, where people could continue to drink. and dance.
i can still remember walking, in one of my little dancing dresses, with aaron down george street, through the eye of a hurricane and actually feeling i could shout it down. the adrenaline and the rum, and rage were coursing through my veins, and for a moment i thought i could challenge nature and win. and then sometime soon after, the same path that we took, that the hurricane took, was razed by the bouncer, spray-painting a path to my door, eventually banging at it, and nearly shaking the house down. it trembled when thor called. and then finally a small but brave man talked to him quietly, and made him go away. i think about that little man often though i have not seen him for years. he was a hurricane-whisperer.
right. sorry. was lost in a memory. time to dance now.
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