Staple
Staple again. Great music. Ran into Sally and, eventually, Ian, whom I never expected to show up at any of my regular spots. There he was, in a cowboy hat and Terminator shades, hidden away in the corner. Heh.
One thing I can’t understand yet about San Francisco is why people consistently bitch that there’s no parking available anywhere near a club, but they always want to show up at midnight. I never have any problem finding a place to park, because I show up at nine, or shortly thereafter. Usually, I’m parked right in front of the club, or within a block, at least.
There was still nobody on the dancefloor at ten thirty. There must be an ordinance in the city of San Francisco that makes it a misdemeanor to show up at any club before eleven, unless you’re part of the staff. Yet, everyone bitches about long lines and parking two miles away. Note: show up early, avoid the line. Duh.