I drove into the city last night to meet a friend.  Not expecting to stay long, I illegally parked on a side street and slipped away without drawing too much attention to my car.  Rounding the corner onto Juneau, the sound of partying hit me and stuttered my stride like the feeling of entering an air conditioned house on a sweltering August afternoon.

The noise was so loud, it took me a few moments to realize that the partying was only coming from one spot, McGillicuddy's.  My destination.  Rogues, Trinity, Duke's, Harp, that other place... they were all eerily silent by comparison.  The oasis of music that stood before me was beginning to intimidate me, I pondered making an early right-hand turn, ducking into a booth at Trinity and drinking a beer in seclusion.  But alas, I was expected by a pretty girl, so I bit the bullet and entereed the noisy oasis.

Once I was settled and introduced to the two people I know and the many more I'm glad I don't, I proceeded to people watch with the friend who asked me to drop by.  I had never seen such a concentration of awkward, rythmless giration since I visited Three, before it closed and became something else I don't plan to visit. 

A younger girl staggered up to my friend and I, and thinking we were a couple, asked if we'd be interested in going to a dinner party in the middle of the week.  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my friend was checking her voicemail, so I copped out with a, "You'd have to ask her, she makes the decisions."  This slurring young girl then insisted I take her number down and let her know.  Just before she walked off into the vibrating crowd, she held out her hand and introduced herself to me.

I don't think I'll be going to her dinner party.