God is a DJ

I do not entirely understand why it happens like this but it is the fact and the statistics prove it too. If you count all the great parties I have been to during the last few months there will be a disturbingly high percentage of parties in Brussels. Scarily high comparing with partying outside of Brussels or Belgium.

This implies that parties here must be cool. I have to admit that. Many of them are.

On the last weekend of April, I got invited to a birthday party of a new friend. She is British and works in a language school, she is super cool and is a nice escape from the corporate/eurocrat crowd of Brussels. She has got most of the characteristics of a person I usually connect quickly and easily: she's smart, liberal, funny, intelligent, a bit cynical, has extensive international experience and loves partying. A perfect match.

So on last Saturday of April, another good Polish-Bruxelloise friend of mine and I found ourselves at her birthday party. She had gathered a very tasteful and interesting mix of people: a theologist, a bisexual girl from Scandinavia being an au-pair in Brussels and another au-pair from the US currently living in Brussels whose mother turned out to be lesbian and having divorced her husband found a girlfriend and started living with her. Some other cool personalities included a big crowd of random but funny Polish people. Plus all the characteristics I have mentioned above that always attract me to newly met people. The red wine as usual was a profound support of deep conversations and silly laughter. 

Around 11 PM it was time to hit another place - a party in the church. But some obstacles in the meantime prevented us from reaching the shrine on time. Having drunk too much wine (and not thinking of stopping it) I was enlightened enough to decide not to drive the car myself. I then asked a sober girl from the party to do it for me. She agreed and soon we all found ourselves in my car driving towards the centre where the church party had surely taken off. But the devil was not on our side. On a very sharp turn the satan suggested me sipping some more of the red wine. I followed his idea and unfortunately spilled quite a lot of the good old red on my lovely black and white sweater. The pure whiteness of my snow-white stripes of that piece of clothing was damaged by the bloody redness of the wine.

'Shit' I said to myself. 

'Shit' I repeated. 

'We're changing the direction!' I shouted and everyone looked at me. 'We're going home now' I continued. 'I need to wash off the stain'.

No one objected. I bet no one dared. After reaching home, I threw away the empty cup of wine and headed towards the door. I rushed in and went straight to my room. Still being drunk I took off the sweater, dropped it on the table and poured some anti-stain liquid. Then I put some salt on it and then placed it in the laundry machine.

'It's in God's hands now' I thought to myself 'and I will have to pray in the church so that it disappears'.

I rushed off my room and told everyone to leave for the party. A few minutes later, we were at the door of the church of Gesù in Brussels. Unfortunately, the door was blocked by an incredible long line of people. Pretending to have some friends in the line I started waving to some random strangers trying to make everyone believe they were my friends. That way, we managed to end up in the line being only a few minutes from the entrance. I do not know until now how that happened. I am normally a very obedient and good boy (too good?) who always waits in queues for his turn, who always pays the expected amount, never bargains or argues. That night I was very rebellious and it is only the universe that might have the answer.

After a few minutes, we entered. It was startling. The huge interior of the shrine was packed with people. The soaring arches of the pillars were finishing in the ceiling and were highlighted by the red, blue, yellow (and who knows what other colors) lights of the bunches of reflectors all over the place. The sounds of the music were gently blurred by the sizes and the cubature of the nave. The high altar was replaced with the DJ. There was much wider choice of the different alcohols than only the communion wine. Listening to confessions of all the sinners were highly acceptable and appropriate. And finally everyone had the possibility of doing the two at one time: having a party and a morning Sunday service (a perfect two in one). The place was awesome and the party was ultimately fabulous. We finished it around 4 or 5 AM and headed home. Then a nice brunch in the morning with a good friend.

A perfect weekend. And it included going to the church.

Amen.