Once again I said F's on the outdoor music festival and just hit the afterparties, but this time it was work. If the career aptitude test I took in high school had offered "Clubs Journalist/Photographer" as an option (my test suggested "Taxi Driver") I might have figured out sooner that making small amounts of money for staying out until well into the morning partying and yelling at people through a megaphone on the back patio of a condo neighborhood apartment is really kind of an awesome job. As it is I'm going through a club kid renaissance at age 28, although on a considerably nicer scale than the converted-shipping-company-offices-turned-ecstacy-dens that passed for clubs in Kalamazoo 1998.
No comments:
Post a Comment