the funeral begins today

Friday night was a terrible loss... the best-kept-secret party of Little Rock, Cool Shoes, was murdered by 4x4 and over publication.It is a sad day for us all who love to swivel our dancing feet on the glorious concrete floor all while the beat goes on. Desperately clinging to our alcoholic drinks in attempt to keep them from turning over, we shared fun and laughter and, for me, even love. But the November Cool Shoes was a little odd, something, the original cool shoes followers could sense in the air.

 To our surprise the place was packed, and we made our best efforts to appear slightly optimistic in the midst of the putrid aroma of B.O. and beer. The warmth is what kept us in; it was below freezing that night and standing outside with the sea of cancer inhalers seemed unappealing. 

Soon, we pushed back the unfamiliar faces and made our way towards the stage. Strange: the familiar DJ table was blocked by three performers. We were listening to a live version a household rap, a version that was all to familiar of my high school lunch room. However, Cody, Elizabeth, Rosemary and I made our best attempts to cut the lyrics and move to the beat. This failed miserably. But hope was near; Wolf-e-Wolf was about to play and the unwelcomed crowd began to filter away. Finally a beat we could all recognize, it was like eating chocolate cake after fasting for three months. 

But this did not solve our disappointment. Our feet were confined, suffocated by overweight dusch bags who could hardly pick up their feet. People didn't come that night to dance, they came to let their bodies build more fat for the cold winter ahead. It was ridiculous. How can you dance when people all around you are stationed like a brink house, barely swaying side to side.

The only thing that was successful about the night was my outfit.

- Marko