Like, we had a staff party a few weeks ago. It was lovely. But here's how a lot of the conversations went:
9pm to midnight: This is so fun! It's great to see you! Yay, let's drink and bullshit about music!
Midnight to 2am: Let me tell you about my debiliating PTSD from the last three years of COVID, poverty, and dead friends.
So let's recap, I guess?
February through April of this year saw our government and our industry unify behind the idea that the proper response to a vascular, neurological and immunocompromising pandemic was to just pretend that it's no longer happening, and not just eliminate but stigmatize even the most basic mitigation measures.
In August, we had the literal shitshow of a weeks-long plumbing disaster that left us with no toilets and required digging up the sidewalk.
In November, we had a weeks-long social media shitshow instigated by someone who repeatedly assaulted our staff and then loudly and enthusiastically lied about it.
And then a few weeks later, we were burgled, twice. It was very expensive. The suspects are still at large, because my first name's not Louis, my last name's not Vuitton, and when Mayor Breed (D-Coronavirus) talks about being tough on crime, what she means by "crime" is "visible homelessness".
Our attendance is back up to about 80% of what it was in 2019, which is... better than it could be, but still not great. We put on a bunch of great shows, we just need more people to come to them.
And this year we were again voted Best Nightclub, so thank you for that!
Sooooooo, another year above ground, right? Take the win, I guess.