No One Listens to Techno pt 1

This guy has been sitting in my drafts for about 10 months… I decided to finally finish part one and post it. Part two will come in another 10 months, or when I get heartbroken again and consequently feel really inspired to write, whichever comes first.

While no one listens to techno, I sadly love techno ie electro. I listen to it all the time in the car, while I study, while I do work. It calms me, relaxes me, motivates me, and helps me concentrate. I’ll listen to an hour long mix 3-8 times in a day if I really fall in love with it. I love electro so much that when my friend posted a comment on a remix of a song and asked me to join him for a festival, I skipped my third day of graduate classes to drive through the night in order to go to a music festival for the weekend. I’ve had plenty of wild weekends but I think back to this one a fair amount. I feel in love twice, one night right after the other with two different guys. And by fall in love I mean I was riding the induced love that club substances make you feel. Sorry Mom. Side note: Mom if you are reading this, please stop right here.

There are times where I like to do spontaneous things; take a road trip, go out when I still have so much work to do, go on a random date because I’m bored and haven’t met anyone new in a while. Well one of my close friends, Allen, told me about a festival is New York City, Electric Zoo. For those of you who don’t know it’s an Electric Dance Music (EDM) festival and one of my more favorite (or rather a dj that I actually know) Don Diablo was playing. Literally a week before this festival I decided to go. I got tickets from a friend of a friend of a friend and Allen was actually going to drive up to my town in order to pick up some “friends.” I told my dad that my friend was driving up and we were going to drive down together, in the same day. Allen drove 5 hours up for us to drive the 5 hours down. My dad’s friend immediately asked (cause you know we’re Russian) if he was my boyfriend. After I said that no he wasn’t a boyfriend, just a friend, she turns to me and says “too bad, he should be your boyfriend.”

Anyways, we made the plans where Allen would pick up some friends and we would leave in the morning to him picking up friends, me getting drunk at a bar, and us leaving at 1am to drive 4 hours to get to his house, the halfway point to the festival. We get to his house at 6am and pass out until 9am. Literally, so exhausted we went straight to bed. 9am rolls around and we are trying to catch the 10am bus. I get up shower, put on makeup, whatever and then Allen wakes up, takes his dear sweet time and we miss the first train in his hometown, can’t find parking at the second train station and miss that train, only to drive into the city and park up by Columbia. Since that time, that’s where Allen always parks his car when he comes into the city and takes the 1 train down.

So we get to our other friends apartment in Times Square and they leave for the festival. I stay the first day programming and doing a homework assignment because hey I’m still a grad student and have things I need to get done… Ie, I worked for a bit and took a nap. I ventured out finally and met the girl and got my pass for the next day, got dinner with a friend, came back, and took another nap. I started to get ready for the night because hey it’s 8pm and I was ready to go to an after party. So they get back, Allen met a girl at the festival and me, Allen, and his new found love (Lana) head out to a club to see 3lau. So I take a little something something for a good night and we leave. About an hour in the lights look amazing, the music is amazing, the sweaty disgusting gross guys are amazing. Allen and Lana are dancing, I’m having a great time by myself, because at this point in my life I’ve figured out how to third wheel all my happy in a relationship friends and enjoy my own company. I dance next to some guy, give a big smile to another, and then it happens, some guy starts dancing behind me. If it had been earlier in the night I would have pushed them away and moved deeper in the crowd, like I had with the other 2 or 3 guys that tried dancing with me. Most guys that come up and try to dance with you are creepy as fuck, grope you, or honestly are just bad dancers and kill the whole vibe. But not this guys. But again. Maybe it was that substance induced empathy that made me take a second and give him a chance instead of walking away.

Anyways, the new found guy, lets call him John, is dancing with me. I didn’t see his face but as the song ended I started walking away and he just spun me around. He introduced himself to me all suave and invited me up to the VIP section that he had with his friends. My brain literally thought, “No don’t do this, what a stupid idea, why would you do that? Don’t go somewhere with a stranger”, while my body was like “yeah why not? Good idea.” We go up and he pours me a drink and I remember him tasting it in front of me to show me it wasn’t roofied. A+ guy. I take a sip, realize I really don’t want the drink, and give it back to him. We’re chatting and I can’t really talk cause the lights and music are so overwhelming. We’re dancing, walking around, chatting, and then I realize Allen and Lana have been gone a while. So I call them and Allen and her are outside and they can’t get back in. John to the rescue gets them inside, and up to the VIP section after 45 minutes of talking to whoever he needed to talk to. Anything to get laid, amiright? So we get upstairs, are all dancing, drinking and finally 5am rolls around and I am finally ready to leave. John and I take a cab back to his place and I explicitly remember asking him to give his address to Allen so that they knew where I was going. Honestly, this day in age you can never be too safe.

We get back to his place on the upper east side, and head up to his apartment. He’s visiting from Georgia and his parents have a place in the city. He introduced me to his friends who had just played (and lost) in the US Open that day and I met Tim Howard, cause he was casually hanging out there. Tim Howard, the US goal keeper, saw me come back to this guys apartment to sleep with him. I shook his hand and John had to have a conversation with him to tell him that we were sleeping in that room. I’m sure I left a great impression. We hooked up and then ended up going up out onto the roof and talked as we watched the sunrise. We talked about how he’s now in business but he had always wanted to study physics and his parents killed that dream. I talked to him about grad school and my dreams and we fell asleep out there on the roof with the sun beaming on us. Finally after a couple of hours of sleeping outside we went back to his room and fell asleep there. 10am rolls around and I roll out, tell him I have to leave, and take the subway in a black halter dress and heels, stride of pride in all of it’s glory. I get back to my friends apartment and recap my night and pass out.

I never got his number, never talked to him again, never tried to add him on social media, thought about him here and there, and questioned my decisions. The only thing I think back to that night is how Tim Howard must have viewed me and questioned my morals and decisions. But we can’t win them all.


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