I spent over an hour at a bar called Monkeytown the other night waiting for a reading to start. I was under the impression that Ian Svenonius would be reading from his collection of essays “The Psychic Soviet.” I’m sure it’s pretty rad; I want to get it. He kept wandering around chatting with people. It turns out the reading happened earlier in a different location and I was waiting at the after party. We sat in the back room of Monkeytown which has couches lining all four walls with giant screens. Some Bollywood movies were projected onto the screens and I felt like I was tripping. It was dark and Calvin Johnson was DJing. Hipsters were reclining on the couches drinking wine. I left at 12:20 because I had to get up early for work.