Saturday, August 06, 2005
Yay for Popscene!
So I finally went to Popscene. In short, it was freakin' awesome. But there is more to my day than deafening 80's tunes and sweat-soaked indy kids. For a full understanding of the craziness of my experience, I must tell you about the events prior to last night. I'd best start the night before. So Viggy was having a little get-together at his house. Chris, Alex and I were invited. In the afternoon, I drove to Fremont to pick Alex up from his house. Viggy and I hung out there and watched a Star Wars documentary, then we departed.
We got back to Viggy's house in the late evening and busted out the booze. Sam (Viggy's sister) had some of her friends over as well. Long story short, we became rather intoxicated and found ourselves with our arms around each other blubbering stuff like "I love you man" and such. By the end of the night, I was too drunk to stand up. I awoke the next morning and helped Viggy clean up. Then, I drove Alex back to his house and, after stopping for some food, headed back to Cupertino to work out with Chris and Galen (Tuesdays and Thursdays are our workout days).
Now, working out takes a lot out of you, but we already bailed on Popscene once before, so we were determined to make it there this time. After a few time-costly setbacks at Galen's house, we finally got on the road. Viggy, Chris, Jessica, and her friend Sarah (and apparently another car full of people) went straight there, but I needed to pick Alex up from Fremont. Thankfully, Galen accompanied me on the rather confusing journey through the East Bay.
By the time we got to Popscene, it had already been open for two hours. Relieved that we were finally there, we stood patiently in line and waited to be let in. When were about five feet from the door, I realized that I had left my wallet in my car. I knew that both my ID and my money were in my wallet, so I couldn't get in without it. Like lightning, I sprinted the quarter-mile down the street back to my car to retrieve it. I swear I haven't run that fast since I was in better shape. The run back up the hill was steep and unforgiving, but I was determined to make it back before the rest of the group reached the door. So, I utilized the massive amounts of sugar stored in my body from all the candy I've consumed over the last five years and ran back up the street to Popscene. As I ran, my legs were on fire and my heart felt like a hamster in a microwave.
I reached the club in time to find everyone at the front of the line, next to the door. Still gasping for air, I showed the doormen my ID and exchanged cash for a stamp on the back of my right hand. For the next three hours, we danced like there was no tomorrow. Among the songs they played were classics like "Tainted Love" and "Respect." They even played "Mr. Brightside," which I love. Halfway through the night, we walked to the Shell down the street to buy some water. These black guys approached us and we thought they were going to rob us, but they just wanted to sell us some weed.
By the end of the night, we could barely hear each other and the majority of the water we consumed was now soaked into our clothes. I raced Vignesh to my car on foot (he was driving), which was probably not a good idea considering the intense cardiovascular workout I had gotten prior. I arrived at my car (before Vignesh; sucker was stalled by red lights and slow drivers) to discover a $40 parking ticket. Apparently, I was parked there during street cleaning hours, though I didn't see any no parking signs. We all said our farewells and our we've gotta chill again soons and departed. Though my muscles were close to atrophy, I drove Alex back to Fremont and dropped Galen off in Cupertino and then drove home. My poor car. It aged 200 miles in one day. I'm pretty sure it's my fault that it stalls on me every so often.
It was 4:30 am by the time I got home. I had barely gotten out of my clothes when I collapsed on my bed and fell into a much needed sleep. Moral of the story: last night was fuckin' awesome.
Yay for Popscene!
So I finally went to Popscene. In short, it was freakin' awesome. But there is more to my day than deafening 80's tunes and sweat-soaked indy kids. For a full understanding of the craziness of my experience, I must tell you about the events prior to last night. I'd best start the night before. So Viggy was having a little get-together at his house. Chris, Alex and I were invited. In the afternoon, I drove to Fremont to pick Alex up from his house. Viggy and I hung out there and watched a Star Wars documentary, then we departed.
We got back to Viggy's house in the late evening and busted out the booze. Sam (Viggy's sister) had some of her friends over as well. Long story short, we became rather intoxicated and found ourselves with our arms around each other blubbering stuff like "I love you man" and such. By the end of the night, I was too drunk to stand up. I awoke the next morning and helped Viggy clean up. Then, I drove Alex back to his house and, after stopping for some food, headed back to Cupertino to work out with Chris and Galen (Tuesdays and Thursdays are our workout days).
Now, working out takes a lot out of you, but we already bailed on Popscene once before, so we were determined to make it there this time. After a few time-costly setbacks at Galen's house, we finally got on the road. Viggy, Chris, Jessica, and her friend Sarah (and apparently another car full of people) went straight there, but I needed to pick Alex up from Fremont. Thankfully, Galen accompanied me on the rather confusing journey through the East Bay.
By the time we got to Popscene, it had already been open for two hours. Relieved that we were finally there, we stood patiently in line and waited to be let in. When were about five feet from the door, I realized that I had left my wallet in my car. I knew that both my ID and my money were in my wallet, so I couldn't get in without it. Like lightning, I sprinted the quarter-mile down the street back to my car to retrieve it. I swear I haven't run that fast since I was in better shape. The run back up the hill was steep and unforgiving, but I was determined to make it back before the rest of the group reached the door. So, I utilized the massive amounts of sugar stored in my body from all the candy I've consumed over the last five years and ran back up the street to Popscene. As I ran, my legs were on fire and my heart felt like a hamster in a microwave.
I reached the club in time to find everyone at the front of the line, next to the door. Still gasping for air, I showed the doormen my ID and exchanged cash for a stamp on the back of my right hand. For the next three hours, we danced like there was no tomorrow. Among the songs they played were classics like "Tainted Love" and "Respect." They even played "Mr. Brightside," which I love. Halfway through the night, we walked to the Shell down the street to buy some water. These black guys approached us and we thought they were going to rob us, but they just wanted to sell us some weed.
By the end of the night, we could barely hear each other and the majority of the water we consumed was now soaked into our clothes. I raced Vignesh to my car on foot (he was driving), which was probably not a good idea considering the intense cardiovascular workout I had gotten prior. I arrived at my car (before Vignesh; sucker was stalled by red lights and slow drivers) to discover a $40 parking ticket. Apparently, I was parked there during street cleaning hours, though I didn't see any no parking signs. We all said our farewells and our we've gotta chill again soons and departed. Though my muscles were close to atrophy, I drove Alex back to Fremont and dropped Galen off in Cupertino and then drove home. My poor car. It aged 200 miles in one day. I'm pretty sure it's my fault that it stalls on me every so often.
It was 4:30 am by the time I got home. I had barely gotten out of my clothes when I collapsed on my bed and fell into a much needed sleep. Moral of the story: last night was fuckin' awesome.