Lame
I was supposed to meet someone in the city at a jazz thing. I appeared there at 7:40, didn’t see my would-be host until 9:30. I am way too patient.
As soon as I saw him, I split. I headed home to Mountain View, hoping to get into Lime Light (I just wanted to get the fuck out of the city), but I had to resort to Molly’s Top 40 shlock.
I have never experienced a DJ that sucked so badly as that one. Homeboy watches too much MTV and consumes too much Top 40 radio. Pathetic.