Nationalized

The Jetty Boys came to the Borg Ward in Milwaukee last week.
I never found the Jetty Boys particularly amazing, but a lot of my friends do, so I decided to attend the concert to hang out with three of them.
My stepfather dropped me off on National Avenue at 7 PM in front of an unmarked brick building that matched the other near-derelict structures on the block. National Avenue is lined with cross-streets of bars, nail salons, and more dives, but mostly empty, boarded up buildings. It is a street that my father's friends (Milwaukee natives, all) refuse to come to after the sun goes down because they fear their cars being broken into, and possibly worse. Outwardly, it is not a friendly place. However, it does look like too many streets in my hometown.
Inwardly, the Borg Ward was three rooms of empty walls, dust, and large men I did not recognize (save one- who was in and out of the space over the next couple of hours). Granted, the two front rooms are normally used as gallery space for artists, and there used to be a rather prominent sign on the building marking it as the Borg Ward.
My friends finally showed up, and I introduced myself to someone that was alone and had been there as long as I had. The music still had not started, and not many people were there, so I could sympathize with how he must have been feeling.
The five of us talked for a little while, and I eventually went to use the Borg Ward's bathroom. It was terrifyingly dirty- and not just in that old-building kind of way. It was the second time in my life I peed standing up out of fear of making contact with that bathroom, and not just for fun. By the time I was done, the guys had moved into the show space. They had, however, left the loner out of their circle. After talking to them for a little bit, I walked over to my 'new friend' and talked to him.
The guys walked up to me, and informed me they would "be right back." 8:30 PM rolled around. The concert was supposed to begin at 7 PM. The sound guy was not even close to finished setting up, and a total of 6 people were standing in the audience space. My friends had left me alone on National Avenue, in a dirty, empty building at night.
This was not a neighborhood I could catch a bus in and be okay.
I called my stepdad and got a ride home.
No More Rock N Roll.