“Last night was friggin awesome! Philly, booze, live music, and mustache mullet man.. Sooo good!” -Sweet T
Time: 9:56 p.m.
It was loud. The band was already playing in the basement. Who knew one Fishtown rowhome could hold so many people. First things first, I needed to grab a beer. There’s no better way to start the night. I made my way through the crowded living room trying not to step on people or get myself stepped on. As I walked in they were already tapping keg #2. Roc Borja pumped the keg and I grabbed myself a freshy. We headed down to the basement to watch some band play. It was filled to the brim; friendly faces and unfamiliar people were crowded shoulder to shoulder, while indecipherable noise made talking impossible.
When the band was done playing, my ears were ringing. I could see the Wild Crow putting down his guitar and coming our way.
“Woooo!” I screamed in his face as he hugged me tight and lifted me off the ground.
“When did you guys get here?” he asked.
“About……… two beers ago maybe?”
“Two beer and a shot” Roc added.
More bands played. More beer was chugged. Roc held my feet for a keg stand. Before I knew it, I was drunk. I already needed to break the seal.
I stumbled my way upstairs to the bathroom, where a line was already filling the hallway at the top of the stairs.
That was when I saw him.
He was wearing a blue, orange, and white button-up shirt that looked like it was made out of a piece of carpet from the seventies. It was perfect. Even better than that, this guy was sporting a full on power-mullet with molester mustache to boot.
While waiting in line, I could hear Mustache-Mullet Man talking to his friend about how excited he was to be performing his new “rap album” tonight at the party. I was next in line for the bathroom so I would have to hurry; there was no way I could miss this.
When I was done in the bathroom, I found Roc and our friend Kay watching a DJ set up a laptop to the PA system downstairs.
“I wonder what’s going on.” Kay said.
And there he was, Mustache-Mullet Man, unraveling a microphone and plugging it into the amp.
“Oh, I know what’s going on, and I think we need to see this,” I said laughing loudly.
“DJ Wetness” (The house DJ) grabbed the microphone and announced “Fishtown! Give it up for ma’ man from Buffalo, NY – Jeremy Jermaine Jerome! Performing as JUST ENDING NOW!!!! ”
And at that moment, I had a name for the man behind the mustache.
“JJJ” as he also called himself, went on to play for thirty minutes straight to a crowd of young, confused rockers. There were responding with reactions that were varied between absolute disgust and mockingly supportive. The words that came out of his mouth were part bad rap lyrics – part (unintentional) comedy gold. His dance moves were outrageous; he jumped, he kicked, waved his arms… he got down on his knees and prayed to the lord (maybe?). To top it all off, he had an American flag tied around his neck.
I was ill-equipt without my camera, so my shitty phone would have to do. Half-way through his set, my phone decided it couldn’t take anymore of his performance and shut itself down. It was okay though, I had at least 10 minutes of this unicorn smack dab in the middle of Fishtown.