Yeah, so. Krucoff hepped me to this SooperSeekrit show last week. And because envy and want are my two strongest motivators, I said, Who do I need to blow to get on that list?

He pointed me to this this esteemed gentleman, and two hours and one Listerine PocketPak later, I was on the guest list with a PLUS ONE, BABY!

So there we found ourselves, lost in a sea of bearded brunettes in screen-printed sweatshirts, drinking free beer under halogen interrogation lamps. Is there any better way to spend a Thursday evening?

I was nervous that the shindig would be so inside baseball that I would stand out like a Major League impostore, and was prepared to front my usual disguise (Swedish rock journalist) when we walked in. Fortunately the first people we saw were Tony's friend Jeff and his brother and friend, so it wasn't at all like junior high 4th period lunch. (Little did I know this weren't no 'slusive affair: after all, they let in Chris.)

The play, entitled "Publicity Stunt" (heyyyy....I get it), involved Berman as himself and Oldham as his shrink, discussing Berman's famous distaste for performing onstage. But, being half-deaf and (predictably) easily distracted, I kept finding my attention wandering to the

beep

beep

beep

of some hidden alarm. But it was funny, which should come as no surprise. Someone elsewhere has a better recap, dollars to donuts.

The most noteworthy part of the evening was being recognized by someone who reads #1HS and who didn't happen to be holding an ice pick or a vial of hydrochloric acid. Someone I admire, even! Hackmuth of Dust Congress, up from DC for the show, gamely stood in the bathroom line with me while we chatted. He looks like Ray Liotta (Goodfellas first half, not second) and made sure I didn't have a trail of TP on my shoe when I came out.

But then the beer was gone, and the Cheez-n-Crackers too, so Tony and I cursed the End of Free Booze--and the autumn chill, Jesus!--and headed home on the subway.

No ignominy was involved! (Aside from the dicks I sucked to get on the list in the first place, natch.)