Midnight Mess last night kicked off slowly, Torture Garden were holding their Tokyo event, also in Roppongi. Until about two there were only about a dozen people there, and the music, while quite listenable, was, to my ears at least, obscure.
Then Rome Burns arrived. It wasn’t the real Rome Burns ‘cos simonsatori had short hair and I’ve no idea who the guy with the mullet was supposed to be – have they gotten a new bass player, or has Stoooos beard gone really really wrong?
From then on there was a steady stream of people arriving from the Garden. There didn’t seem to be anyone in particularly fetish outfits, there was a little more leather and PVC than is normal for Mess, but not noticably more than a normal London night would have.
The influx made it seem quite crowded on the dancefloor – but that wasn’t going to stop me jumping around a bit.
The final TG refugees arrived just as the music was finishing, at last some real rubber, there was a girl with just her face visible from her all-over bodysuit/dress thing. No idea who she was, I tend to recognise people initially by their hair (which, admittedly, is a less useful differentiator here than back in Europe).
We all waited outside while the bar was put back in order after the music stopped. The rubber girl said my t-shirt was ‘kawai’ (or maybe ‘kowai’, pretty) – I’m going to this take as a compliment but I’m not sure if it really was – which seemed, somehow, the wrong way around….
Maya-chan lead the entourage to Trick or Treat, where she had booked the whole place for the post-Mess mess….we weren’t turned away this time for being gaijin, since we were a mixed group. Theres one large table for groups of 8 or 9 plus a few smaller tables for twos and fours, I ended up on a little table with Spit, seperated by a kind of negative crucifix partition from Yvonne and her ladyfriend (whose name I didn’t quite catch).
Somewhat incongruously there is an electronic dartboard in the middle of the gothic decorations.
The food, when it finally arrived (they’d been hit by a group of 20-odd ravenous goths arriving together) was OK, but the cheesy chips I was expecting turned out to be fried mozarella. But in conclusion, I think I’d rather go to Criston Cafe, where at least I feel welcome.
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