My mate Bridget and her London based band, the Headless Prom Queens, got a gig playing at CBGBs in New York. Five of her adoring fans flew to watch her North American debut. The night started out in a dirty, scuzzy, and hugely overpriced punk bar and ended in an underground crazy disco that let the group of us in free and was basically throwing free booze at us. "Free booze! In New York City?" you may be asking. This may have been because of my friend’s fabulousness or it could have been because of the less desirable clientele like the middle age man only covered by his whity tighties and moments of darkness from the strobe.