My band Headless Hookers played a show at The Saint. I think we were the first band to do so. I somehow managed to cut my shin open though my suit pants weren't harmed. It was pretty bloody though.
Because of my weird schedule, I had to fly back to New York the following morning, aarly. Rather than go home and make my mom deal with my late arrival and early departure, I decided to just stay at the Saint and go to Bluebird Cafe (or whatever it was called then) in the morning. I stayed up drinking and hanging out with Matt Uhlman.
In the morning, I got to the Bluebird at seven. They weren't even open! I have rarely been so disappointed yet unsurprised by a restaurant.
I cabbed to the airport and ate something even more expensive.