When I go out party with friends usually in soho cafe noir, steve, chimodu, elizabeth or lorenza we discuss about technology mostly, for example to avoid checking from hackers or fbi/cia wiretapping, like using tor project, but then we switch to understand how many people understand technology, meaning that now few are aware of the danger to have our conversations (like this univocal (from one person to another) analog (not digital – because it is on paper) letter, the problem is I’m using some kind of note on ipad then transferred to googledocs) be controlled, when I can talk about something crazy like complaining about united waste of americca (I cannot stand the people trashing very good furniture on street instead to put on sale or give free to other people using craigslist, or when they cut down trees like oaks but then leave them on the ground to rot, not using them for some woodwork)

—- back to fact of people not aware of technology that can be dangerous if we not understand it, like when people put info on fakebook when they go vacation and then thieves move in the house knowing nobody is there –

— And technology is the only things can help solve problems I remember in the Middle Ages when people just believed in theoillogical dogmas and they complained about having no food bur thry were not using agricultural technique lile before, the sewage were open river in the cities creating cholera and plague, i can continue talking about how people wirh new ideas lile galileo were tortured or killed for using technology, or thanks to travels and use of gun powder created the expansion of western civilization and renaissance

Anyhow after two or more negroni (1part gin campari and sweet vermouth, sometimes I change to vodka or grapefruit juice) it is time to go home for dinner, so I take the close subway at canal st, and I feel some waves of sorrows mounting from inside the intestines, then up to the middle of lungs and then throat till under my eyes, what are these? Nerves? Blood? They are usually hot but few times I felt cold

—– The place called cafe noir was managed by friend called balthazar, a big French born, he used to come often to my afterhours, most of the people that were coming were bartenders, managers, bar owners and some other lowlife like some security or little mafia padrini, like one of the Gambino family, sometimes also models like Bridget Hall, she came normal but she left one time too drunk to walk by hersel and needed to be lifted to go inside one of her friend’s hummer.

—– To organize these parties I was contacted by many “promoters’, one of them was Romello Swanson, he was security (he always carry small .22 caliber gun) most of time but to make extra money he was looking for places for afterhours. The contract was that he will look for people and I provide the alcohol/bottles (and bartending in case I feel it), sometimes also the bar location, but most of time we look for some cheap place, like back room of some diner restaurant, fix the place, make a temporary bar, then collect the money.

—– One time we went to this Turkish place, so we put stuff in car and prepare, people start coming, some other promoters, also few of my clients of Denisen: we are making good money, but after few hours we decided to continue so almost everybody goes back to Denisen, like around 7am. We enter from back door of building to avoid too much noise (we want to be discreet, so nobody living on top floor need call police for complaining about us having fun)

—– Sometimes I setup also the basement where I keep also office and computers (good thing to be graphic designer is that we design menus, flyers, timeout ads, and related website etc); I goes there with one of my promoters Kevin or something (by the way today was thursday September 9 2004) because he need to pick up something, his bicycle and then he want to go home.

—– When we go upstairs, after few minutes, we notice little bit of drama between the girlfriend (jamaican) of Misha (another promoter rasta) and Kevin girlfriend, the today promoter, one is accusing the other to hiding the cash that she is collecting when people entered the Turkish place, and because there is lot money involved, and money must be shared between them and me, we try to see these allegations are true. When I think all looks good and divide the money and we guys are cool, the two women started screaming and tearing each other hairs, one of the promoter then hit Misha girlfriend to stop her, then another male friend of Misha hit Kevin and then everything went downhill, I could not control the situation, Balthazar tried to help calming some of the guys fighting too, I was seeing bottles of Bacardi and campari flying around my head, crashing on walls – people screaming, somebody was bleeding, I had to open the front door to push some people out, then finally things looked quiet, trying to assess situation, some people needed go to hspital for medication, like balthazar (he went and then told me he had 16 stitches on back of his head)

 —– The stupid woman who started everything I had to send to my home to check later the situation and also to get the money, of course chika was not happy, but business is business and without all the money I was making we could not get any green card also (lawyers pretty expensive) — I was lucky that nothing happened to me (I was avoiding flying bottles ala matriks) – as you know going to hospital via emergency room is expensive like a month rent —– Then when I thought everything was going to be quiet, one of the person working for me, that i told him to go to the corner of spring and 6 ave to check if any police patrol car was going to show up around, he call me to notify me there was in fact a cruiser moving toward the bar, I think some of the people that got kick out called the police because they were pissed off the party become a club, the fight club. In case you don’t get the joke, the movie, sometimes I tell jokes but if nobody listen it does not work of course, maybe I told the same joke that day to some of my friends but not sure, anyhow if you get it it works, if not, too bad. Another one was a day I was the sale person at a market in Williamsburg, a nice location with riverfront and view of skyline, and group tourists shows up and some of ladies trying the headcovers, some of them were the girls/daughter and also mothers, the mother looked cool in it, some vintage fabric headwear, and everybody was complimenting her for the choice- then I said “She is not vintage …” and everybody laughing.

 ——Anyhow I told everybody inside to be quiet, close the doors, pull the curtains and hide behind the booths or the bar.

—– Few minutes later a slow moving police car were in the front , we were quiet watching outside, if they came inside we could all arrested for late party, actually now was morning so I could open for breakfast, serving cappuccino or egg and bacon, maybe to the police officers looking for some strange situation, but I preferred just not trying my luck more than that. After couple minutes that look like was 1 hour nobody knocked the door so we waited few more time then left the rest of the people home, myself got inside a cab and told driver go brooklyn (to my house) and take a nap.