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Night Spies

We are at Exit.

by and

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My boyfriend wanted to take me here one night. I'm not really into punk or metal, but I like to dance and hang out. As soon as we walked in I loved that it was a bit outside of the norm. It was black leather and chain-link fencing with cool people and great music. There were handcufflike things protruding from the wall, and the music and our dancing was crazy and sexual. I remember that one of the bartenders, a girl, had a Mohawk. I couldn't wait to paint my boyfriend's fingernails black and get all dressed up and come back. We've been here several times since. Months later, after a wild party with lots of drinking and smoking, I suddenly started to feel like a dominatrix and wanted to come back here and play. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I was talking to my boyfriend pretty provocatively. I didn't say, "Get on your knees," but I might've said, "You're my bitch tonight." We had mad, crazy, sweaty sex in his car for over an hour and never made it here. Needless to say, we didn't need to come here to get in the mood that night. The thought of being here was inspiration enough.

--Angela Guerini, advertising sales

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