NYC GOTH-INDUSTRIAL SCENE: EARLY 1990'S: "LET ME GET SOME LAST MINUTE DANCING IN..." (FAMOUS LAST WORDS)

So around June of 1991 Ward 6 in the Michael Todd room at the Palladium was really packed every Saturday night . There was always a line down 13th street at about 10pm every week as we were all antsy to get some good clubbing time in. It almost became a kind of "pre-clubbing" spot to kick off the night.
I remember one evening when we were all milling about outside on line, leaning up against the building waiting for them to let us go in, and suddenly Jessica starts screaming and pointing above us, about 15 feet over our heads, at the wall. Everyone was there, a good 50-60 people.
I was with Aimee, Helene, Andre, and Jesse and we instinctively ducked and ran away from the wall trying to figure out what the hell Jessica was pointing at. As we turned around and looked up we saw about a dozen flying water bugs circling overhead, then "bam", landing against the wall, walking around a little, then back into the air. Friggin' nasty! They were just hanging out with the rest of us, flying around in the middle of 13th street.
What was really funny was when everyone else realized what was going on and took off away from the building yelling and screaming. I can only imagine what people thought when they saw a bunch of goths and industrial kids running down the block towards Third Avenue like that.
Another night that stands out for me at Ward 6 was just classic.
It was around 2am and I was with Aimee, Helene, Dreamer, Jesse, Andre, Michael T and Amanda, really kind of winding down and getting ready hit a diner. Suddenly, as we were ready to head out, Father Jeff puts "Burning Inside" by Ministry on and I figured, "Fuck it, let me get one last stomp in". So I tell everyone to hang out a second and I run into the pit. I'm having a good time stomping around then "WHAM!", I see a bright flash of light and I wake up to Jesse patting my face asking me if I'm alright. I have no clue what just happened, and my first thought was "Damn someone just punched me out!"
It wasn't until I got up on my feet that I saw someone else staggering, holding their head. It was Eve (not "Psychotic Eve", another dude who was out a lot then, and an aggressive stomper like me), and I saw some blood on the side of his face.
I was still dazed but kept feeling my forehead, which oddly enough felt like a wet sponge. So I went to the bathroom to see what the hell was going on.
Remember those big Palladium bathrooms with the huge mirrors and bright lights? Well, they came in handy for one of my favorite scenes in my life! I got in front of the mirror staring at my face, and it just so happened there was a crew of hardcore guys in there, and they also were looking at my reflection because something was "off". (There were always a bunch of skinheads hanging at the clubs as well, like Frank from Step 2 Far and Summer Trenholm who was going out with Paul from Oxblood at the time. Totally cool group of guys and girls). Anyway, there was a weird thin red line across the right side of my brow, but no blood. So like an idiot I started poking at it, and thought the best thing to do was see if I could open it. Well, OPEN IT DID!! And just like that we were all staring at the front of my SKULL, and that's when the blood started pouring out like a faucet!
But the best part was, at that very moment, all these big skinheads recoiled with a collective "ewww!" as I started cracking up at the reflection in the mirror. Totally a moment I WISH I had a picture of!
All I could do (besides laugh) was turn to Jesse and say "Shit, I need stitches".
So we went out to the dance floor, got Aimee and Dreamer, and hailed a cab to Beth Israel Hospital over on 1st Avenue.
After a bit of a wait I got stitched up (24 stitches poorly done) and we all decided the best thing to do was head back to the club! Makes sense right? I mean, there was STILL about a half hour left before closing, so with me looking like some war casualty with this giant white bandage on my forehead, we went back to hang out for a few more minutes, then collected Michael T, and THEN finally went out to the Cosmo Diner on 23rd street and 1st avenue.
To make a ridiculous night even better, here we are, trying to eat, looking the way we do (a group of goths and a cabaret performer), when suddenly, about a half hour into it Michael T asks me if I'm going to wash my face. Seems like I didn't realize I had all this dried blood running down my face and back across my ear for the last hour or so. And to top it off, there was a older gentleman with some blond model type sitting in the booth next to us, staring, smiling a bit until he said, "Must have been some night huh?".
It was comedian Jackie Mason. Just perfect. You just can't make that shit up...
Anyway, just one of those nights back then when something always seemed to happen.
Here are a few scattered pictures from that time, including a shot of Aimee and me that was right after my bad stitch job. Enjoy...