Went to three metal shows in three days this weekend. Friday night was my friend Stella's birthday and after seeing Bloodhorse (mighty heavy) at Lost and Found we ended up in the shithole to end all shitholes...aka Brooklyn's most ridic metal bar, Duff's. Now I understand the reflex to support this place, Duff is indeed genuine in his enthusiasm for all things metal but the atmosphere ends up being cringe-inducing most nights because unfortunately "all things metal" equal no edit mechanism.
Regardless, shit talk aside, that's where we ended up and if nothing else, the weekend warrior metal crowd is always entertaining. Usually made up of older dudes and about three chicks, there is nothing hip or pretentious about them, however the reliance on shock value is a little yawn because really? Who are you gonna freak out at the metal bar? Other metalheads? That's always been my laughing asshole response to that place, until holy fuck...we met MUGOTU.
Stella stumbles in first, goes to the bar, kisses the female bartender, obvs a friend, and orders seven shots of Jameson for the lot of us (minus myself, the sober observer) who all drove over crammed into a compact car. I try and sneak around side of her because she is standing next to the most genius metal dude I've ever seen. Frantic I break out the cell phone and text my friend Brendan, the one person who would fully appreciate this situation, the sighting...that rare beast. "Holy shit. I am in the presence of a real live juggalo right now."
I try to be sly about it, a photo is totally necessary. With his spiral curls and evil clown makeup and floor length black skirt, this dude is begging for immortality and I am too much of a puss to just ask him to pose so I try and take a pic of Stella in front of him as a ruse except at the exact moment I am creeping around front of the bar to snap her standing in front of him she looks over her shoulder and with a start notices him (somehow she was previously unawares.) She jumps and shakes her head, backing away, shot in hand. I walk up to her and say, "Dude, Stella, you gotta go over and stand by that guy so I have an excuse to take his picture." Stella goes above and beyond the call of duty in her drunkeness and walks up to him to introduce herself.
Emboldened by our attention, Aryn (I think that was his name...) kisses our hands in greeting leaving a black greasepaint stain (somehow still visible on my hand four days later...and I've showered...twice.)
Stella finds his hilarious and grabs him by the cheeks planting a kiss square on his mouth.
The results were...umm...wow:
After this Stella finds some dude on the outside porch to give her a birthday joint, the crew I am with gets progressively louder and drunker and somewhere along the line I exploit the drunk girl vibe and take some video footage of Stella telling everyone she loved us but we needed to fuck off while she unsuccessfully tries to light a roach.
Our new friend wanders outside for some more lady loving and tells us about his upcoming battle with Sabretooth at the Anti-Valentines Day Ball. "Sabretooth? Like the X-Men villain?" we ask. "Oh, he's only one of the primary figures in the underground goth community." Oh...that Sabretooth. Doy.
Upon later investigation it seems that Sabretooth is not a person according to their MySpace Profile, but so much more: "SABRETOOTH was founded in August of 1995 by Sebastiaan T. Van Houten “Thee Tod Father” as small fangsmithing business at the New York Renaissance Faire. After moving to NYC in 1996 and hosting LONG BLACK VEIL and THE VAMPYRE BALL for many years, in such legendary clubs as THE LIMELIGHT, MOTHER, and THE BANK, SABRETOOTH has evolved into a world renowned production company. Today, SABRETOOTH is continuing to bring you the original quality, soul and passion of dark decadence with a new vigor and attitude!!!" Sign me up! Also featured on their MySpace page is an informative blog with features such as, "DISCLAIMER ON THE REALITIES OF BLOOD DRINKING"
Back to our friend. He senses his unwelcome presence on the porch but is not ready to give up hope entirely. We are probably the first girls who have paid him any mind outside of a BDSM presentation in months. He tells us he is an "equal opportunity lover" and then tells us to look him up on MySpace under his goth name, "Mugotu, like Mugatu from Zoolander but with an 'o'." Well I looked him up and unfortunately, as I had figured by our conversation he was not a juggalo at all. And he's pushing 40 (yum!)
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