On the cold Friday morning, I went to a crepe stand on the way to work to pick up a couple shiny gold tickets for a wake. Anticipating the lack of a bar at the event, we first convened at 611 Supreme (another crepe place, but we did not eat crepes) and eventually claimed a cushioned corner where we could enjoy some drinks. After a while, we went to the dilapidated old apartment building that is slated for imminent destruction. Inside, with the exception of one room that had been preserved to illustrate the shoddy conditions, every surface and space had been transformed with art. We wandered around inside, and I somehow got paint all over my clothes. There was a performance on the rooftop, but I didn't get a ticket for that. When the drama was over, it was easier to persuade (or evade) the guard to gain access to the roof, which had been covered in dirt and flowers and wolves. A band was playing and people danced a little bit to stay warm.
Eventually, the orkestar went to the street and people followed, bringing the party outside. The police showed up and tried to be cool cops. i remembered the name of a guy who threw a different rooftop party and convinced him to throw me one of the cardboard wolves. I held it close for a while. I'm pretty sure there came a time when some of us were singing "Hungry Like the Wolf" with one of the officers who saw the cutout and doubted that we even knew the Duran Duran song. This, of course, could not be further from the truth.
Buster cast shadow puppets on the walls of the building using the cruiser's spotlight. Then a guy who seemed nice enough just grabbed the wolf and sprinted off into the night. Neither I nor the police officers pursued him. Eventually, idiots started throwing bottles and pounding on Dumpsters and we thought about finding food but all of the hot dog stands had closed.