It's amazing what the words "free event" do to cash-strapped students and their spouses. This is the only explanation I have for finding myself in a nightclub for the second time in a month (tripling the number of times I've been to such establishments in the past 32 years!)
But it was a special occasion as Paul Oakenfold, an English DJ of some renown, was playing in San Francisco. Somehow they weren't charging, and this "somehow" became apparent as the sizeable crowd was asked to dance, buy drinks, and generally wait around for four hours before the man himself appeared.
By that time we had left. I think. There's some debate about whether we saw the DJ we'd gone to see or whether it was a warm-up act. Perhaps that tells you more than anything else about the evening.
Look, it's Paul Oakenfold! Maybe.
Old enough to know better: Amir, Moran, Sagy, someone from England.
Throwing shapes in a cathedral of sound.
It's not over until the luminous green ladies dance. And then it's definitely over.
