The Party from Full Lucid by Plains Desperate Symphony

I am in a bedroom of a house which I do not recognize. Evidently, I have been invited here as its unfamiliarity does not bother me in the least.
There is another person in the room with me, a young man with thin build and dirty blonde hair down to the base of his neck.
“Are you going to get the music started soon? I want to hear your new song.” I am now aware that there is a computer in this room, and I have a large duffel bag with me that contains a small musical keyboard, speakers and stands.
I connect the keyboard and speakers to the computer, load up the files for my new song, place the keyboard in my lap and begin playing. Other people begin to crowd into the room to hear.
They seem unimpressed. Nobody seems to mind however, and several people come and go as I play. No one attempts to stop me or offer criticism. They simply listen for a time before leaving.
I am aware of the need to relieve myself, so I stop playing and leave the room to find a bathroom. No one claps or really seems to notice that I’ve stopped.
As I walk through the house, I pass through a large kitchen with several people drinking, laughing and carrying on. I am at a party.
There is no bathroom inside. Someone says the bathrooms are in the backyard.
In the backyard there are more people talking and generally milling about.
There is a large green and quite dirty tent that dominates the backyard. It is slightly taller than me, rectangular in shape and about thirty feet on the long side and fifteen on the short.
The walls of the tent do not quite reach the ground and are held up by cords attached to spikes driven into the grass.
Inside the tent there are several smaller rooms made from the same material as the tent itself. These are the bathrooms.
I pull aside the flap on the last room and enter. There is a small toilet and nothing else. I am about to pee when I notice the feet of someone else just outside the tent.
This person begins peeing outside the tent. I turn towards the person and speak through the tent.
“Why are you pissing outside? There are toilets in here.” He turns to answer and as he does so his piss stream splashes under the bottom of the tent and gets all over my shoes.
“Hey man, what the fuck? Watch where you’re pissing!” I shout. I’m terribly annoyed about the urine now covering my shoes and the tops of my socks.
“Oh, sorry man,” I recognize his voice; it’s the same man who had asked me to start playing my song inside.
I walk out of the bathroom stall and decide it is time to go home.
I gather up my gear, return it to the oversized duffel bag and begin to walk home.

• Electronic
• cinematic
• downtempo
• industrial
• techno
• Winnipeg