I considered pointing out the irony of the dj playing 'under pressure' after being heckled into last-song-submission, but i figured it would only turn a night of general social acceptance into one of indifference and one-eyebrow-raised glances.
A few sub standard cheesey pop songs earlier i had prayed for it to end, but in thier drunken excitement over dancing without caring they had decided to elongate my suffering.
'Please make it something that might replace my faith in music' i begged with any general ecclestial being that may or may not have existed within the immediate vicinity.
Clearly not. Queen and David Bowie seemed to be accounting the growing need for me to tell everyone what i really thought. But apathy prevailed over bitterness and i resolved myself to a quiet corner to contemplate Bowies better work and roll a cigarette.
