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It was just one of those nights.
Everyone sitting in a circle at my friends house as we smoked and drank,
contemplating what time the headliners would perform so we could organize
our departure.

-”12:30″ said one.
-”No way dude, 1:30″
-”You guys are crazy Grand Central wants to get
everyone to Peach Fuzz to spend money at the bar.
It’s an 18+ show. They’ll play around 12:30″

And just like that, because the logic seemed flawless, 12:30 was our prediction.
By the time we concluded this it was about 9pm. One of my
friends upped the ante and handed everyone somepills–Tramadol– to kill the time.
Why not?
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Short story, shorter:

We arrive at Grand Central around midnight. Everyone in my group
is faded and only a handful of us knew who any of the headliners were
so the excitement was mildly shared. We get inside, I buy a
$12 Jack on the rocks–wtf–and smoke a blunt with my friends hidden within the
dense crowd.

I was pretty fucking bored for a while… When all of a sudden Denzel Curry comes on stage with
Rob Banks and Yung Simmie and bang out their hit “Threatz”. Which is a dope-ass track if
you haven’t heard it yet. I treated those 10 minutes as if it were Ab-Soul playing. Everyone
around me was convinced that “this was it”. When those ten minutes ended it was 2 am.
My friend was like “wow dude, for a headliner that was a short fucking set”. I told him that it
wasn’t the headliner and that we were still waiting for that. We all exchanged stares through
half open eyeballs which communicated clearly, lets get the fuck out of here.
We did.


Moral of the story: wtf Grand Central, headliners playing after 2:30 am?! Bah.

My only regrets that night were in taking the 3rd pill and not seeing Ab-Soul. Fuqit.

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