crunk


I've got that familar buzzing in my ear. Loud music is going to be the death of my fragile hearing and I know this, have known this but yet I do nothing to prevent it. Those damn earplugs are only a buck fifty a pair. Part of me think that's a rip off and whats the goddamn point? Why muffle pure rock sound?
But honestly, tonight, I think I felt my eardrum pop. It was my left ear - the thing is buzzing way more than the right and it's almost painful. I wanted to put on some music when I got home from the bar tonight, but I don't think my poor ears could bear it.

Tonight was slightly dissapointing. Erin won a satalite radio, so that was a highligh, but everything else was kind of a downer. I didn't drink enough before we left the house to substain a drunk. Got in, got a drink and I had this increcible urge to urinate. The two of us go to the wash room, I take the handcap stall cause it's the one that's always open and for some stupid reason, sligthly cleaner than the others and do my business. I get up and I hear a clunk and splahs. Before I even turn my head around I know what's happened.

My full gin and tonic, which was sitting on the back of the toilet has tipped over and fallen into the toilet bowl.

Fuck.

I started laughing, mostly because the situation is beautiful - I just cut out the middle man. Erin doesn't believe me and I open the stall and show her before I flush the toilet and throw the glass in the garbage. I don't trust this bar enough to clean the glasses properlly.

So it's back to the bar to get another drink and it's there that I discover I didn't bring my goddamn bankcard with me. All I had was the thrity-five dollars that I stuffed into my pockets before we left. Goddamn it. If there is one thing I HATE, it's drinking on a freakin' budget.

I knew things would spiral from then on.

I couldn't get drunk and spent most of the time leaning on the bar, watching band after band try to entertain me, but my heart just wasn't in it tonight. I think I would have really rather just slap on a pair of sweats, make a huge pot of tea, maybe some soup and watch stupid movies like "Sugar and Spice" and "Celebrity" all night long. But I can't miss the possibility of a good time, and tonight had that possibility lacqured all over it. The Waking Eyes were playing, after all.

The only saving grace of the evening was the crunk.

Yes I said crunk.

Here, let me help you:

CRUNK (cuu ruk): adjective To be both crazy and drunk at the same time. Example: "My friend was so Crunk that she laid on the floor next to her toilet and splashed her face with the toilet bowl water because it was nice and cool."

The crunk saved the evening, really. She was a delicious spectical. I can't remember who noticed her first - Erin or myself, but that fact is completely irrelevent. She was a mess, dancing around in wobbly stelleto heels that didn't seem to work with her crunken feet. She became blanet apprent as a crunk durring Tele's set. The singer was trying to channel some kind of Jimmy Page moment, and was playing his guitar with a bow. He threw the bow down and broke out into some godawful guitar solo that made me think he listened to Yes and played Dungeon and Dragons as a teenager and just couldn't leave those sights and sounds behind, no matter how cool his hair is now. The crunk then picked up the bow and was dancing around with it.

Now, here I must interject. Crunks, for the most part, are harmless. They are so wasted they have no idea of the spectical they are creating or of the annoyance they are causing the other drunkards around them. Sober people just sit and laugh at them. The drunks, fustrated that they haven't reached such a level of crunkness, aim to sabatoge the crunk.

So yes, the crunk has picked up the bow and is flaying around. This girl in sweats with an angry expression goes over to the crunk and starts to whisper to her. I can read the body language and see that there is fustration and anger in the girl - she's out to get that crunk in any way possible. The girl and the crunk walk over to the side of the stage, very close to where Erin and myself are standing. I hear her say the 'B' word (no, not Buttercup) and take the Bow from her. The crunk is unfazed, as they usually are. Oblivious to the scene she is creating, the crunk is completely removed from reality. She continues on, dancing, grinding against air, throwing up the horn hands at the most inate moments. Tele hasn't even finished there set and she's running to the stairs, ready to leap onto the stage and tackle whatever musican is closest. She chickened out about two steps up, realizing the friend that she dragged to the side of the stage just flat out refused to go near those stairs. There was a moment of embaressement in the crunks eyes, but the scent of male stag in the air dissipated that and soon she was back in the crowd, dancing and humping with anyone silly enough to make eye contact with her.

The Dudes were next and were not impervious to the crunks manic ways. Half way through the set she actually gets the galls and jumps up onto the stage to hump the leg of the lead singer. Her friend is smart enough to pull her down to earth by the beltloop of her skirt.

It's at this moment I realize something. This crunk, I've seen her before, earlier than evening. I had taken a quick run to the bathroom and she flew in after me like hail of bullets, laughing and screaming. She turns a bit to sharply on those damn heels and blam, her face makes contact with the metal door frame to the toilet stalls. I quickly ducked into the stall to avoid laughing at her.

So here she is now, being yanked off the stage by her friend. Crunk isn't phased by anything and just saunters back to the bar, orders another drink, forgets about it and runs off to flirt with a new alpha. It's at this point that Erin and myself start to wonder why she isn't cut off.

The Waking Eyes start to set up their equipment, and I notice on the stage a pair of heels. Crunk thought it was a good idea to take them off and just run around barefoot - probably to prevent herself from teadering more than nessecary. I'm stunned really, because I constatly hear the sound of crushing glass under my feet. The crunk is feeling no pain, and is putting any glass walker to shame.

I'm doing my best to observer the crunk in action, but not be to obvious. She's easy to lose in the frey of the crowd, but then suddenly she shows up. She came out of no where and stumbled to the side of the stage where Matt Peters was sitting, drinking his beer, completely unaware. She sees him, jumps on his lap and topples herself, Matt, the chair and the beer. It was fluid and beautiful, and Matt, charming Matt, handled it like a pro. When he righted himself and shooed the crunk away, he looked over at Erin and I, completely embaressed by the situation.

Durring the Waking Eyes set, she behaved for the most part, but now her friend was reaching the breaking point, become less and less drunk and more and more crunk. I was stationed to stage right, standing right in front of the spot where the crunk stashed her shoes. I couldn't help it, I wanted to sabatoge and found myself moving her shoes over a little bit, tucking one carefully behind one flood light.

I'm a bitch, I know. But honestly, wouldn't you do it just to see what insues?

I never got that chance, the show ended, the crunk was off again and Erin and myself were done. I waved down a cab and now I find myself laughing at the crunk, wondering if her shoes will still be at the bar when I head there again on thrusday....