The Night I Fell in Love with Interpol

I arrived at Olivier's gallery at around 10:30/11 and I don't recognize anyone. Not a single person. This doesn't happen very often and I when I do go out on my own I usually go to Zen or Velvet where there are bound to be a few familiar faces, but last night there was no one. After my first reaction which was panic, I tried to chill and I knew I couldn't leave without at least saying hi to Olivier first. Furthermore, it was my last night out before I go back to school, and after Benito's much appreciated words of encouragement, I really wanted to make a night of it.

They had a small bar and only one bathroom where the toilet didn't flush properly. The DJ played Indian, African and reggae jazz (he gets records sent to him from India and Africa), and at first there were two people dancing. Then there were three, four, six, ten, the dance floor filled up faster than any I've ever seen at a private party. And these people could really dance - there was an equal number of boys and girls and they grooved together to the music. Some were obviously professional dancers, but the rest were just really cool dancers. They danced with abandon and flair, and there was no crowd of catty people laughing at anyone. The vibes were so good and strong it was palpable, and soon I was groovin' along with them.

For most of the night, Olivier was running around keeping things cool. He watched the front entrance a lot and made sure no one was out there with drinks or drawing unnecessary attention to this underground, private affair. He also brought out a small film projector that played a black and white snippet of some African women dancing. His studio was cleaned out - all his paints and equipment, all those half finished pieces and unstretched canvases were tucked away somewhere, and the place was lit up with beautiful red lanterns that the DJ made himself.

I met so many people last night - a guy named Ryan was doing "security" at the door watching the smokers and he rapped some of his rhymes to me some of which were like pick-up lines for chicks, and others were witty social commentaries; Bruce was a day-time paper pusher at some investment firm, and at night composed musical scores for movies, he was a good dancer and a really sweet gentlemen - I forgot that they still existed out there; a guy with shaggy hair I can't remember his name, but he introduced me to "everyone" and he told me where he and his friends all hang out and invited me to go see them soon in Kensington Market - I really wish I hadn't forgotten his name!!!; a girl named Yazmin who used to be an artist, who became a biologist and then started teaching English in different countries and is now trying to get back in touch with her creative side - she didn't believe in coincidences and now neither do I; a girl named Dina or Tina who kind of runs the parties in Kensington who has the sweetest face in the world I even drew a picture of her when I got home with a big black curly almost-afro but fluffier and dimples and black eyes who told me I was beautiful; Yohedha was there again all decked out in an old British paper-boy hat (it has a real name, but I can't remember) with a brown suit and a one of those pastel plaid ties that only a handful of people on earth can get away with tied in a Windsor knot, and he drew a picture of me while we shared the joint I brought; and then there were people I just danced with who are smiling shadows in my memory who twisted and grooved to the music in that hot humid dance floor.

It was like I stepped into a dream. When I woke up this morning, sprawled on the couch with Peaches in my robe, I thought how easily it really could have just been a dream. The people were so nice and friendly and generous and beautiful and unique, they couldn't be real, not in this harsh, judgemental world of ours. There were a lot of Signs last night - Signs that I'm on the right path, that I'm making the good life choices. Ever since I decided to dedicate some of my time to my creativity, life has been sweeter that I could have possibly imagined. Even as I write, there is a protest/parade for the CBC locked out workers who have the drums going and the music blaring and it's like the party hasn't ended. Maybe it never has to end?

Everything that happened last night seemed to be like part of a well-planned movie. I got there, and it was scary. I overcame my fear and was welcomed into a circle of friends. It would have been a little too lovey dovey if it weren't for when I was trying to say goodnight to Olivier that things got interesting.

I approached him as he was talking intimately to a girl sitting on the bar. She was beautiful with big mermaid eyes and a scarf wrapped over her hair. I said something like, "Hey, I just wanted to say bye and..." and he said something like, "Meet blahblahblah..." I can't remember that girls name and he was mumbling anyway so I have no idea. She kind of pulled a switcheroo on me where she grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Stay here and I'll entertain you til he comes back." He ran away without even meeting my eye! It was very bizarre and I was getting bad vibes from this chick. I told her I just wanted to say goodnight, and she said, "Oh" and started going on about how much she loved a particular one of Olivier's painting - a paint mosaic of a woman's face on a long flat piece of wood - and she said, "I love it. I'm going to buy it." So I said, "OK..." as in What else do you want me to say? And then she just suddenly turned around and started talking with the bartender like I wasn't there. I literally backed away and the whole encounter left me so baffled, I didn't even say goodbye to "everyone" because I was still trying to work out what had happened.

Maybe I watch too many movies, but she was acting like the jealous girlfriend. And Olivier was acting sketchy too because he usually has excellent manners, it wasn't like him (not that I know him THAT well, but manners are something you can tell about a person right off the bat) to just run off like that when I was trying to talk to him. Anyway, whatever it was she thought, she was totally intimidating and it was so perfect because I think I could have walked out that party with an inflated ego and a naive optimism that life was perfect, but instead I was very bluntly reminded that there are still people out there who are petty and catty and that there are still girls out there who can make me feel like a teeny tiny insect begging not to get stepped on.

Whatever fears that girl had about me and Olivier are totally unfounded anyway. So far I've only really seen him as a mentor. We vibe off things he knew back when and the things I know now. When I look at him, I see someone who has been my age twice, which doesn't mean anything except that he's had twice as much experience as me. Besides, as soon as I got home, I started to miss Ryan a lot and wished that he had been with me to this great party. I looked for Piper at the Gates of Dawn to put on while I winded down for the evening (at 3:20 a.m.), but Ryan didn't have it on his computer and I didn't want to listen to our LP without him, so I put on - Interpol.

I do have an Interpol t-shirt that I got at their last show in Toronto, but I mostly bought it because it's a great t-shirt (albeit small!). I liked their music, but something in it always eluded me. Last night, as I sat there alone with Peaches in the middle of the night after having had more fun than I've ever had sober (well, except for pot), Interpol was like angel's music. The lead singer's voice is so awesome a little like a lounge singer and the music is so so good and I felt like I could listen to it forever. The whole evening had this timeless feeling to it with the red lantern light and the trippy jazz and everyone dressed in everything from hippie to vintage, and people lounging on sofas sipping drinks and laughing and people dancing without restraint. Alone with a dog and Interpol after all of that gave me a second wind. It also made me realise that if it weren't for Ryan, I wouldn't have any of it.

I wouldn't have the computer hooked up to the TV, I never would have gone to see Interpol, I wouldn't have a dog, I wouldn't have this cozy apartment to go home to, I wouldn't have had the confidence to take dance lessons, and I never would have had the inspiration to start painting. Well, I might have gotten some of those things eventually, but the difference between my life now and my life before I met Ryan is so vast. He supports me in all my little whims and he keeps me safe. I owe my beautiful life to him and isn't that a sobering thought?