#servx

Posted: August 8, 2004 Archived from The BonnyTymePyrate LiveJournal

LadyParasyte, fLee, Crystal, and I went out Friday night seeking adventure. It wasn't hard to find. Apparently, four ladies in a car are what's commonly known as "trucker bait," and we were to find this out in a most harsh demonstration.

(Crystal & LadyParasyte in the front.)

(Me & fLee in the back.)

While driving to the club district, we attracted the attention of a passing van decked out in garish Chicago Bears regalia. The van seems packed to illegal proportions with young men, and the driver of this van was intent on getting our attention. LadyP and Crystal happened to have a dry-erase board in their glove compartment for such sensible purposes as inquiring what van drivers are looking at, and LadyP pulled out the board on this occasion. Starting out in a mild manner, LadyP simply wrote, "Hi!," and put the board to the window. The rather rotund and far from hairless van driver responded by pulling up his shirt and baring his breasts in what we could only guess was some sort of Chicago Bears mating ritual. Shocked, LadyP wrote, "Ewww!" and held it to the window.

The driver, now accompanied by some of his passengers who were clamoring to the front of the van, responded by making obscene gestures involving both his hand and his mouth, and we were pretty well honestly and truly disgusted by this point. Traffic changed and we found ourselves on the other side of the van. Noticing much movement in the van, we glanced over to find that yet another rather rotund and far from hairless man had shoved his gigantic and far from hairless arse out the passenger's window. Nothing much more can be said upon this subject because we were nauseated and horrified and I could write nothing but "ILL" on the board which fLee kindly held up to her window to show them how we felt about their sub-human display.

(Poor fLee being ill at the sight of the van driver's bum. On the bright side, she is wearing the most rad Co-Dependent Time Teller choker from WTH.) After this incident, we found ourselves once again the target of the driver of a much larger truck and while we could never fully make out what he was trying to tell us, I'm sure it was something revolting. On the pleasant side, we listened to some new music from Kittie and some other rockish outfits, and discovered while singing along that LadyP can scream like a fucking demon from hell. I'm not talking about some high-pitched piercing banshee shyte, I'm talking growl from the bowels of the earth. To travel back in time a moment: when the ladies had come to pick me up at my house that evening, the house was rather noisy due to all the people there for the party-for-no-particular-occasion that was already going on. Therefor, it was not at all surprising when I kept mishearing what LadyP was saying and reinterpreting her words in my own way. It was surprising that I sincerely thought she was saying much more ribald things than she actually was, because it is not my usual character to jump to such conclusions. However, this is how the evening began, and one of the things I thought she said was "cervix" when what she actually said was "SirMiss," though that is no less strange and I can't explain it without going into a whole other tale. Back to the present: When I heard LadyP scream so masterfully, I thought how perfect it would be to form a band of the four of us wherein LadyP would scream and the rest of us would contribute something equally entertaining, and what more perfect name for us than, "Cervix," that having been brought up fatefully an hour prior. Things only got better when it was jointly decided that the proper spelling really ought to be "ServX."

(We are quite delighted with our new idea!)

We quickly decided upon the instrumentation: LadyP would scream and play the bass half-assed, fLee would sing and dance, I would play a drum strapped around my neck (because it's the only thing I don't do), and Crystal would play the flute and wear a voluminous skirt from the 50s. This was certainly the high point of our night.

We arrived near our destination, the club Berlin, and walked a couple of blocks to the club. On our way, we took some photographs:

(Crystal, LadyP, and fLee choose cakes.)

(I'm trying to get free money out of the ATM, because I know that someday  it will really work.)

(I recommend you all call this fine establishment and ask that they sponsor  "ServX" on European tour.)

(This is your own fLee and LadyP; bet you didnt know how fine they were,  or perhaps you did.)

(Do you think we were accosted by these guys? Fucking duh!)

(Self explanatory. I am taking the shot, so not in the picture.)

(How three ladies can make the same gesture convey completely disparate emotions.) On our way to Berlin, we thought it might be nice to drop by the Bottom Lounge where LadyP's BF was working, just to say hello and generally make his life more difficult. We were received warmly, especially LadyP.

(LadyP & her BF Joel.) We sat at the bar for a quick drink before heading onwards, and I was instantly and somewhat awkwardly singled out by a strange gentleman who was attracted to my shirt (the very same I made in the trailer before the show at the Atlanta festival with The Chelsea). He claimed to find the humor impeccable and sat down next to me for a chat. He claimed to be good at very many things, from recording albums in his home to vegan cookery. I began to think that, had I said I only ate wood shavings and polymer casserole, he would have coincidentally been expert at making that as well. The only thing I had concrete evidence he was splendid at was taking my attention away from my friends, which I quite resented. After explaining that we were ServX from Delaware and were busy recording our first single into my cell phone due to it's wonderful sound quality, I was finally free to be with more pleasant company, as evidenced in the following photograph:

(ServX Forever!!!) I thought it was time to move on to our final destination before we were distracted by any more unwanted guests. So we took our leave and headed two doors down through increasing rain to Berlin. Any one from Chicago knows that Berlin is my kind of place, and if you've ever been there, you know why. We got through the door quickly to the sounds of a Postal Service club mix, which really was a good sign. Nothing beats walking into a room and being instantly run up to and told you're "fabulous," by a couple of gay men. I'm mean really, nothing beats that. You get the warm fluffies without the grimey get-away-from-me's if you know what I mean. Goddess bless gay men, and triple bless gay bars!!! What would women do without either? During our stay there, I was approached by a couple of people who *shock* knew who I was. Now that is always a surprise. The gentleman in charge of booking acts knew who I was too ("we've been listening to your album here forever!") and asked if I'd like to perform there, to which I answered in the affirmative. I will almost always be delighted to play at any venue that asks me, rather than having to ask. It's just such a delightful situation to be in. Admittedly pleased by the recognition, I felt it was time for us four to take over one of the dance pedestals and show the crowd what ServX was all about. However, not all of us were in the dancing mood, so we entertained ourselves by standing in line for the "ladies" room and looking at posters for the upcoming Madonna night.

(Crystal pulls a Madonna lip to striking resemblance.) We suddenly noticed it was far too loud to talk to eachother, something girls are exceedingly good at, so we all went next door for some 4am tea and cake, which really turned into nachos, banana cake, and coffee. Crystal practically got into a fight ServX style when the gentleman in the booth behind her kept banging on the bench back. Needless to say, she banged back, and quite aggressively too. The guy and his stupid friends were hostile, but only to a harmless degree, and a few overloud chants of "ServX," enough to get us kicked out at any other hour of the day, were all we needed to gain our confidence back. Crystal also inquired what kind of butter the establishment had, which I thought marked her out as a very particular sort of lady. After parting ways, I hopped through the now pouring rain into a cab and on the way home learned that my driver was French-Morrocan. He was obviously educated, and we struck up a conversation when he asked why the people that dress all in black do so and whether they are in fact Satanists, clearly referring to Goths. I answered that it was mainly a fashion based around an aesthetic, a way of life, a style of music, and that it had nothing to do with Satan. The driver then asked about the people with many peircings who wore chains. I identified these as punks and answered that they were similar to goths in that they desired to rebel from the mainstream and show their individuality while establishing an identifying style that aids them in finding and being found by those of a like-mind. The driver seemed to follow, but also thought that there was a sort of wickedness in this need to show individualism by defacing one's body with piercing and tattoos when there were so many ways to be individual on the inside. I brought up tribes in Africa who do the same thing, but he felt that this was not a fair comparison because of the differences in society. Hmmm. I personally feel that the decoration of the human body with somewhat permanent marking has been around for thousands of years, and I don't really see that our subconscious motives are very different now than they ever were; they are still essentially tribal. Interesting though to see for one moment the perspective of a person raised in a massively different society, and how they look upon our street fashion and culture in general. I arrived back home to a very excited puppy and a house still full of people though it was almost dawn, and proceeded to stay up until 7am at which time my adventure was pleasantly ended as Willow and I went off to bed.

(Yes, this is how my dog sleeps.)