SelfAbsorbed.ME : ‘It’s Your Life, We Just Write it Funnier’

I knew 27^th street had changed.

I’d read about the underage girls murdered at Guest House.

I’d heard about the guy who fell to his death via Bed’s elevator shaft.

Yet my jaw still dropped in an ‘Is-this-seriously-happening-to-me?’-moment when I was frisked entering Home. Why I was at Home on a Saturday night in the first place is a sordid series of events. The point is that by the time they were frisking me, I decided there was no way I was backing out and missing whatever other outrageous changes had happened to this place since its fall from grace a few years ago.

Oh, in addition to being padded down, my Lollipop purse was searched, including inner pockets. Good thing my days of carrying knives and small weapons are behind me.

I got in.

Ascending Home’s staircase, I experienced a small series of flashbacks to Home’s former glory with Sara Mclachlan’s ‘I Will Remember You’ as my mental auditory backdrop. I emotionally floated back to the days when Guest House had that awesome sax player and the best house music in the city and I was dating a long-haired Israeli and Home was, well, that place nearby Guest House for people who liked Hip Hop. Home was sort of like yesteryear’s Tenjune. And now they have an airport-level security system out front. Why?

The inside of the club looked like this. Click here to continue