When I was in college, we used to hang out at a club off of North Ave. in Atlanta called The Masquerade.
The Masquerade consisted of 3 clubs in one- Heaven, a venue for live music was upstairs; Hell, a dark, dungeon-like dance club downstairs that pumped mostly techno music; and Purgatory was in the middle, with pool tables and video games and places to sit and talk where you could mostly hear each other.
We spent 4-5 nights there in many a week, many times until near closing.
My friend, Tony actually got a job there.
Needless to say, we saw some interesting characters there.
I remember that the first night we ever went we saw a band called "The Impotent Sea Snakes".
I can't discuss their act without having to feel like I need to wash something.
There were many pierced, hair-dyed, hair-shaven, etc. folks that would frequent said establishment.
But they were always greeted by "The Flute Man".
The Flute Man was a dread-locked, middle-aged, seemingly always high African American gentleman.
He would play his homemade flute for "spare change" while sitting on the wall as people entered the club.
He also sold some of his flutes.
One night, my friend Rob decided to buy a flute on the way out of the club.
On the way to the car, he soon found out that even homemade flute playing requires a certain degree of talent.
I think I remember having to restrain him from going back and cracking the flute over Flute Man's head.
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