Interpol vs. Gaybar

I decided to not go to last night’s Interpol show. I had purchased a large amount of beauty supplies from Sunflower in the Gateway Wellness Area’s clearance sale. So applying a beauty mask while bumping Gucci Mane seemed more fun.

While I was rinsing with warm water to open my pores up, I remembered a funny story about Interpol. It was around the time of the 2004 Election. I was helping Downtown 4 Democracy throw events because I am a vegan activist. We threw an afterparty for Interpol’s Newport Music Hall show at Bento. I think a guy from the Secret Machines was dejaying. Who knows. Carlos Dangler and company showed up and I think Chris Lustko coerced Carlos Dangler and Interpol to go to a house party. I think maybe at Liam’s house.

Anyway, I was rolling with Daymon, Levdon, maybe Kate Fink, and the homie Gaybar in the white van that Daymon never asked for gas money to fill-up.

Gaybar and I had become friend because him, Thug Mayor, Boxhead, Taco Mouse, and Big Marty wrote silly ass graffiti everywhere. The combination of vandalism and comedy was a dream come true to me. So we became pretty tight quickly.

Carlos Dangler and Interpol came to the party hoping to get some Buckeye sex. But they had regressed into aging hipster lack of game. Basically, you stand around, and hope someone recognizes you, because you lack the ability to talk anymore.

Finally, a girl comes over to the still in costume Interpol.

Gaybar interrupted with rude questions for Carlos Dangler and company, like, “Why are you guys wearing suits? My dad wears a suit. You guys must be old. Do you know my dad?” Gaybar asked in a manner that you actually thought that Interpol could be insuarance salesmen from your parent’s church.

Interpol is speechless.

Girl walks away not wanting to talk to some creepy old insurance agent from Gaybar’s parents church.

Next girl walks up to Interpol.

Gaybar chimes in, “You talk funny. Are you from somewhere else?” Interpol responds, “We are from New York.” Gaybar sounding disappointed replies, “Oh, I thought your were from somewhere cool like Hawaii. Do you know anyone from Hawaii? Hawaii is cool.”

Girl walks away, not wanting to talk people from uncool places like New York City,
Finally, Interpol gives up. They ask their handler to call a cab to get back to their tourbus.

Gaybar yells 444-4444 at them.

Interpol’s cab arrives, and Carlos Dangler goes back to the Peter Pan with balls the opposite color of SooWoo.