Happy Birthday, John
So, I was on my way home to get changed and head to the city for another night of shaking my ass at Into the Sound, when I spotted Gareth, Jennifer, Matt, and Scott approaching the corner of Villa and Castro. In Mountain View. I didn’t think they ever ventured any further south than the office, which is seventeen miles to the north. I honked once, and circled the block.
“You’re coming to John‘s birthday bash, right?” Jen pleaded.
“I was planning on going to the city. What are you guys doing in Mountain View?”
“John’s party’s at Lime Light. Come on. Get changed and come down here and dance with us.”
Normally, I’m very private and I prefer not to hang out with co-workers where possible, but John kicks ass and he’s a wageslave just like me and I figured it would be fun seeing the marketing people get drunk and do a little dance, so I went.
The music was a standard top 40 dance fare (they even mixed C+C Music Factory into the music). It wasn’t what I generally prefer to get down to, but since I paid ten bucks to get in (which is criminal for a club to charge when a top 40 DJ is spinning, in my opinion), I was determined to make the most of my time there. My co-workers were surprised that I can dance my ass off and even more surprised to learn that I can sing (I have a tendency to sing my ass off while I’m dancing). “How come you don’t do that at our 2:00 Thursday one-song chair dances?” someone asked. “because I don’t mix business and pleasure,” I retorted.
The birthday boy, John, got really toasted early and ended up leaving early. But, damn, he had some fine ladies at the party.
I gotta drag him out to Staple, though, so he can get a taste of some San Francisco house.
Happy twenty-fifth, John.