In the flood of light at Dotonbori, the Glico Runner hangs there like a promise that never gets tired of being repeated—arms wide, caught mid-stride, forever arriving. Around him, signs stack and shimmer, blue bleeding into magenta, language and logos layered like memories that don’t quite separate.
I stood beneath it all and let the noise move past me. The city felt bright and bigger the longer I looked, the way a familiar place can expand when you stop trying to name every detail. There’s a hum to it—screens buzzing, footsteps shifting, distant music leaking from somewhere you can’t see. Not chaotic, exactly. More like a living house: always speaking in creaks and currents if you listen long enough.
From Osaka with Love sounds like a postcard, but it felt more like a small private message, tucked into the electric night. The kind you send when you want someone to know you’re safe, and also a little changed.
If you’ve ever had a city meet you halfway—half spectacle, half quiet—this is that feeling. A bright surface with a softer underside, and a lingering sense that the night is holding something back, just out of frame.
The Original party plans may have been a bust but i had such a good time dancing the night away after we moved on the “better” places! So glad I was able to go out after what seemed like such a long time ago. Had a Blast – End Scene.
Night out with the guys in the Eastvillage. Sadly we did not get to goto all the parties I had scooped out but at least I was able to see Andrew Ayres working the door at Webster Hall. He have me this awesome Donald Duck skinned Mickey mouse ears! Made the night complete!
the event details and poster for my go-go event at TRASH! in Webster hall – should be a fun and exciting night to dance
@ The Studio 125 E 11th St Use the Separate Basement Entrance for Webster Hall …212-353-1600 10PM Doors 19+ w/ID $5 with flyer from DJJESSNYC.COM or with RSVP to trash@djjessnyc.com $10 without
With Your Resident DJs DJ JESS (NC-17, Carpe PM) ALEX MALFUNCTION Spinning Electro.Indie.Newave.Disco.Pop.
Late Nite Cabaret By WEIRDEE GIRL MISTY MEANER
With Your Hosts MITCHY C (American Living) TWIG THE WONDERKID (Glamdammit)
Back in 2010, New York City nightlife still had teeth. Before everything was optimized, sanitized, and Instagram-polished, nights out were messy, loud, and completely unhinged—in the best way possible. One of those nights was Trash, the legendary weekly nightclub party at Webster Hall, and it’s still burned into my memory as one of the wildest, most carefree nights of my early NYC years.
David and I didn’t just go to Trash that night—we somehow ended up on stage, dancing like we belonged there. Which, for reasons that still make me laugh, we kind of did.
Trash at Webster Hall Wasn’t Just a Party — It Was a Scene
If you were in New York around that time, you know Trash wasn’t just another club night. It was fashion kids, music kids, chaos kids, drag, punk energy, sweat, glitter, and zero concern for tomorrow. Webster Hall felt infinite back then—multiple rooms, pounding bass, sticky floors, and a crowd that fed off pure momentum.
From the second we walked in, it was one of those nights. Drink tickets in hand. No real plan. Just vibes and volume.
Dancing on Stage, No Questions Asked
At some point—and this is where things blur—we ended up dancing on stage. Not as a stunt. Not ironically. Just fully leaning into the moment. There are photos floating around of us mid-dance, lights blown out, bodies in motion, the kind of images that perfectly capture that early-20s, “this feels important even if it’s not” energy.
I’m pretty sure Davidwas actually go-go dancing that night, which explains how we got anywhere near the stage in the first place. It also explains the green room access, the casual hanging out like we were part of the furniture, and the general sense that we had somehow unlocked a backstage cheat code to the night.
Green Rooms, Drink Tickets, and Zero Consequences
We bounced between rooms, hung out backstage, disappeared into conversations with strangers we’d never see again, and kept collecting drink tickets like they were party currency (because they were). Everything felt loose. Easy. Electric.
There was no content strategy. No phones out for stories. No worrying about how it looked later. You were just there, inside the noise, inside the night.
Why That Night Still Matters
Looking back, it wasn’t about Trash specifically—it was about that version of New York City. The one where you could stumble into a legendary party, dance on stage without credentials, end up in the green room by accident, and leave at 4 a.m. with your ears ringing and your mind blown.
That night with David at Trash in 2010 was loud, ridiculous, absolutely wild, and perfectly of its time. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
