The first floor was almost like a small lounge club. Very chill atmosphere, lots of couches to relax and drink on, and the music was mellow and played at a respectable level.
The second floor was like your typical night club. The bar ran the span of the back wall, the dance floor occupied the centre of the room, and to either side of it were chairs and tables.
The third floor was like a dance club. Just one big empty room with a bar on the far side. It was almost like the entire room was one giant dance floor, and one could not avoid the crammed, sweaty people you'd have to squeeze through just to go get a drink.
The fourth and final floor was my favourite. It was a rooftop patio with a very chill atmosphere. You could smoke whatever you wanted up there and no one would look at you twice. It was also very cool to be able to look over the city.
I headed to the city with my 3 n' Pass crew, Mike and Mike. We were all very excited and dressed down as far as club attire went. To put it blatantly we were dressed like B-Boys ourselves, looking like some urban street thugs. We found parking about two blocks from the club, so we ditched the ride and proceeded on foot. As we got close to the club, we were about to cross at a traffic light when a small car zipped past us full of guys yelling something out the window. I was almost certain it was the Beastie Boys, but Mike and Mike disagreed.
By the time we got to the next traffic light precisely one block from the club, the same car drove by again, only this time it slowed to a stop, and again yelling emerged from inside the vehicle. They were yelling "Weasel" and motioning me towards the car. As I approached the passenger side rear window I just about shit my pants when I realized it was none other than Adam "MCA" Yauch of the legendary Beastie Boys. Yauch quickly blurted out "oh I'm sorry man we thought you were a friend of ours" to which I replied "No problem. You guys going to the Hurricane gig?" Adam confirmed they were going so I said I'd see him there. I couldn't believe what had just happened, I was so stoked. My gal pal Julie from school used to tell me about a punk buddy of hers nicknamed "Weasel" who she always said I reminded her of. My only conclusion was the B-Boys must have known the same Weasel, and had mistaken me for him.
We finally got in the club and found a place to chill. We were smoking pipes inside without attracting any attention, mind you we weren't the only ones. A mediocre DJ spun records for awhile until the mighty Hurricane came out. Hurra rocked the crowd with tons of hip hop classics as well as all the new material of the time. Dude was cutting and mixing like it was nobody's business. Eventually the Beasties showed up, and we had vowed to burn some weed with them. Unfortunately as soon as they entered the club everyone was on them like stink on doo doo. I didn't want to seem like all these other star struck jock riders, so I decided not to approach them like some desperate fan boy.
It was sickening once again to see all these trendy people who couldn't of given two shits about the Boys 3 months back all over them with praises and words of ass kissery. It pissed me off, but I felt like I had one up on everybody after my brief encounter out on the street. To me I was content enough sitting a few tables over from them, to be smoking herb at parallel moments as them, and to be sitting there taking in Hurricane's performance like them. I was just happy to be in their presence, perhaps the happiest I had been in years...