After five rings I began to wonder if the number I had for her was obsolete. It was possible that she had finally embraced cellular technology. She was a Luddite, in that way. Or she may have been too far from the phone. Of course, she may have been out for the night; a prospect that left me crestfallen.
She rented a converted warehouse in an area that generated the highest statistical incidence of violent crime. But personal safety was too trite a concern for her. Worrying about such things was an insult to the augustness of her joie de vivre. I had never met a more resilient human being. This may have been because she was a classic liberal who grounded herself in applied logic, critical thinking, and above all, individualism. She was a live and let live kind of girl. You know that cliché saying you’ve heard a thousand times, Take the good with the bad? Well, she took it to heart and lived by it. Her city was as beautiful in its ugliness as it was ugly in its beautifulness. She loved it, and perhaps even greater than this love, was her love of warehouse apartments. The main room of her place was the size of a school gymnasium. Along the north wall of the main room there were three doors that accessed smaller rooms. An old traveler curtain partitioned off these smaller rooms, hiding them from view. At some point in the building’s history the windows in the main room had been bricked up, which suited her purposes because they helped to contain the ferocity of sound that exploded every Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday night; her rent was high, so she availed herself of a remedy by starting up an underground venue for the urban bumper crop of punk and hardcore bands. In no time at all, her monthly expenses were met.
Being the promoter and manager of a popular venue afforded her the opportunity to showcase her own talent, as well. She was a gifted actress who took herself to the next level by studying the Stanislavsky method, Jeremy Whelan’s Mosaic system, and the Alba Technique. Acting and stagecraft were twin passions, so it made sense to form a troupe, and stage her own productions under the roof of her own venue. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights were dedicated to outré interpretations of Samuel Beckett, Shakespeare, Tennessee Williams, Sarah Kane, Eve Ensler. Sometimes she would work these into the punk and hardcore nights, making for multi-media experiences that were not soon forgotten.