What A Swell Party This Was…

I just hope Cole Porter isn’t turning in his grave after I butchered one of his best song lyrics in the title. 

I just came back from the PinkNoord drink at Noorderlicht, in the former northern docklands. The location was a good one, the smells from the restaurant below is something to keep in mind for a next time.

After a warm welcome by the host’s of the evening, Michel and Jack, we got a sticker. Okay, the stickers we were wearing didn’t have a text with “Hello, my name is”, just our first name and postal code. So mine read: Peter 1025 XX*. Every street has its own code, and most of them have several. The first four numbers, form the area and stay the same only the last two letters change, from AA to ZZ, except for ‘I’ and ‘O’ since they look the most like a one or a zero.

The sticker was the conversation piece, you knew the other persons name and in which area that person lived, for more information you had to start a conversation. At the height of the evening some 70 GLBT were in the room, a bit more men than women. I went in with an open mind, and two hours later, came out wiser. I knew several by face and now we’ve talked or greeted each other. It was a swell party.

I’m looking forward to the next meeting, some of these people I’ll see on other occasions since I got invited for a kick-off for creative businesses next Thursday and a reminder for a gallery opening this evening. I took some flyers with me which I can distribute among other Gays in the apartment building, the more the merrier.

*In this case those two XX’s do not make my street address, those in the know, know which letters should be there.

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