It's funny. My memory of that place is so short in the grand scheme of things it almost seems silly but I will miss it just the same. The first place I set foot in this city that first time I came here A.T. (after Tractor). Corn growing where the Starbucks now stands. An empty field there where those stores, restaurants and condos are. The first place he took me, the place I fell asleep in that booth as though home on my very own couch... after that dear-lord-how-long-was-that-flight? It aways felt like home - that room. Somehow I was always comfortable there, even during the ridicous times.
And although I've never been a regular somehow I almost was, could have been, should have been... How many times did I work that merch table? How many bands did I see there for the first time, every time, the last time? How many posters for gigs there did I staple to a pole? How many blisters have I had from dancing on that postage stamp of a dance floor? How many times have I complained about the food? A few all-time favourite evenings were spent there, a few all-time most embarrassing moments, more than a few pints of Keiths.
And still never a regular, when I've been a regular so many other places... it's funny, in a way. But I'm still glad to have been on the periphery for this end of an era. And to have heard so many of the stories of the glory days. And I'll miss it, I really will.
