Disappointment, thy name is Benassi.

Very quickly, let me tell you. Semi-recently, we went to see Benny Benassi at a club. I was the one who wanted to go most. You don’t know who he is? Okay – you know that song with the Speak & Spell voiced chick going, “Push me, and then just touch me, ’til I can get my… satisfaction… satisfaction…”?

No? Okay, well, forget it, then. Just know that he’s some techno guy who’s living off the success of his one album from a zillion years ago. And I wasn’t the only one who thought that was enough to pay $15 pre-show to see him. The very large club was jam-packed with fans.

First up was DJ Red, though. I never heard of him til that night, but he was good. Everyone was dancing and happy to be alive while DJ Red was spinning on the stage. It was me and my boyfriend and Mike and Richard there, and one of Mike’s friends named Jim. Hardcore music enthusiasts, all. None of our other club-friends had been hardcore enough to brave that crowd.

Then one of Mike’s other friends showed up – a boy they called Goofy Rick, or else Gimpy Rick. (Don’t ask why; I never do.) I only see Goofy Rick once in a while, but I remember that he’s always polite to me. And he’s always, always goofy.

Round about midnight, Mr. Benny Benassi deigned to appear. Boy, his fans were glad. I was glad – hey, I didn’t download his album illegally, or copy it from my friends. I bought that thing full price, and I loved it. But some of his fans there were more devoted than that. Some of them were wearing suits and argyle vests, as Mr. Benassi has been known to do.

Not Mr. Benassi himself, though. No. Hell no.

Muthafucka gets up on stage looking like he just rolled out the hotel bed. Hair all uncombed. Jeans and wrinkled t-shirt. Benny Benassi walked up looking like my Uncle Jose when he gets home from his job mowing lawns.

Which would have been one thing, if he’d spun anything good. But he didn’t, so it was something else altogether. It was a waste of $15. ($25 at the door.) “Bring back DJ Red,” a bunch of us were thinking. Matters weren’t made better when local DJ Sean Carnahan took the stage. Apparently, Sean had helped arrange Mr. Benassi’s visit. But, seriously, a lot of us had to wonder, who the hell wants to look at Sean Carnahan sitting up on the speaker next to Benny Benassi, smiling like a possum? Get off the stage, Sean.

The only thing to do, after that, was laugh at Goofy Rick. I swear, that guy was killing us. Everything he did involved humping or getting humped by everyone in the club. He humped Jim’s friend Jody. Then he feverishly humped and necked with our friend Mike. He danced next to Richard and stroked his long, invisible member, until Richard told him to quit.

The best/worst thing, though, was when he walked up to the three bored/annoyed/frumpy girls who were standing on the rail, next to me. These three girls obviously weren’t there because they liked techno music. They’d walked in with a single gay guy, but he’d removed his shirt and thrown himself into the sweaty throng a long time ago.

Goofy Rick got up behind the saddest, most annoyed girl and pretended to freak-dance against her. But without touching her, of course. And without her seeing him at all. But her friends saw.

Goofy Rick went away. The Sad Girl’s friends lost no time, then, telling Sad Girl what he’d done. With pointing, pantomime, and eye-rolls, they explained it all. Maybe it was the beers I’d had, but it seemed to me that they then pantomimed a plan. They would dance, enticing Goofy Rick to fake-hump them in turn. Then, they’d turn around and tell him off. Maybe even kick him in the balls.

Sad Girl watched from the corner of her eye while her two friends danced. Her two friends watched Goofy Rick from the corners of their eyes while their dance increased in lasciviousness. But Goofy Rick didn’t seem to notice. He was involved in a conversation with Richard by then – maybe a serious conversation about the maintenance of his incredible invisible manhood.

Sad Girl’s two friends danced and danced, thrusting their hips back in Goofy Rick’s direction. They threw their arms wantonly over their heads. Eventually, they no longer even tried to hide the fact that they wanted his attention. They stared at him over their shoulders, smiling and licking their lips.

But he was over it by then. He had other things to do. Before he left, he sneaked up behind my boyfriend and kissed his neck. Then, he fake-humped me once or twice from behind. And then, dear reader, he was gone. The end.

Sad Girl and Friends looked very disappointed. They were sad that they hadn’t gotten the chance to give that horrible man a piece of their minds, I guess.

Maybe it was just the Blue Monkey shot I’d had that was making me think this, but suddenly, that whole episode was the funniest, most poignant thing I’d ever seen in my life. Clear as a memory, I could see Sad Girl riding home in her friends’ car, dwelling on the fact that she had been the one Goofy Rick had chosen.

I couldn’t stop giggling about it. But Benny Benassi never got any better, so way before Sad Girl and two AM, we went home.

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Posted in Houston, pop culture, stories on 11/15/2006 03:49 am

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