After the Party is before the Party
photos: Moritz Jekat
I’ve never been a fan of after parties – at least not the ones that involve pretending life isn’t going on outside and the best thing to do is to numb yourself into oblivion. Everybody gets annoying, nobody listens to each other and the music that is played is mostly inadequate.
What I’ve always liked, however, are the short, silly and often funny moments that happen right before hopping into bed. The unnecessary, hardly remembered trips to get a second dinner slash breakfast (which is the better, cooler version of brunch when you think about it). The endless trips home that always seem to involve more means of transportation than you thought existed. The drunken cab rides spent battling sleep and watching the city’s blurry lights go by.
A whole new adventure starts the minute you stumble out the club, one that somehow manages to be much less predictable than whatever happened before. Most of the time, you knew which DJ was going to play or which club you would eventually end up at, but knowing how and with whom you’d go home is a different story…