Skip to Content, Navigation, or Footer.
The Daily Cardinal Est. 1892
Friday, May 17, 2024

State Street Portraits

Pay $10 for Freakfest? When I only want to visit my bartending friend who works at ______? Sorry you good boys and girls, I'm bordering on ""Savers only"" and ""raid parents' house for things I can use"" broke. Plus, I have principles and ""attempt to get in sans being forced to lay down cold, hard cash"" ranks in the top five. Look, I was only on State Street's horse-shit-and-puke-plastered pavement for all of two blocks in transit to a party después de drinks at the aforementioned bar, so at least give me the chance to tell you about my adventure.

As I walk down Johnson Street, I run into some friends. They are all outfitted in ""flapper"" duds and one of them tells me she is a ""1920s prostitute."" I tell her she reminds me of the DVD jacket art for a movie at Four Star—a ""documentary"" on antiquated erotica from around that era. Someday I will rent it.

We part ways, me slinking off to a parking garage where it's easy access to several back door entrances. First try, I miss my target bar, but wind up crashing some concert after slipping through a propped open door with ""Don't prop door open"" printed on its inside face. I subsequently walked past the ""Performers Only"" sign, entering a small and lackluster mosh pit.

Enjoy what you're reading? Get content from The Daily Cardinal delivered to your inbox

Attempting to find a way into the adjoining building, I ended up giving myself a tour of the attics and byways, all of which were clearly marked with ""Danger! Under Renovation."" Using my cell phone light against the darkness I found several deserted rooms with rickety folding chairs, old billboard letters, abandoned popcorn makers, empty cigarette packages and large concrete fragments (from the walls?).

Luckily, I didn't get caught and was able to exit through the front doors on my way to try another back door entrance. More successful this time, I entered the correct building and was greeted by a large costumed dance party/grind fest, in which $6 Jagerbombs were consumed with such fervency that the establishment ran out of that particular liquor long before night's end. I happily spent the next few hours watching those bottles drain before my eyes in the company of good friends, including the one behind the bar handling the flood-tide of Red Bull.

Watching over-exposed people take a dive in their high heels and ghoul masks while sipping whatever mystery drink he had mixed me proved extremely gratifying. Out of my own costume ensemble I grabbed a $5 bill or two and handed them over to the bar keep. Yeah, I said I'm close to broke, but another principle of mine is ""don't be a scrooge toward your friends."" Besides, you've all seen ""Reservoir Dogs,"" right?

 

 

 

 

Support your local paper
Donate Today
The Daily Cardinal has been covering the University and Madison community since 1892. Please consider giving today.

Powered by SNworks Solutions by The State News
All Content © 2024 The Daily Cardinal