Staple
I couldn’t really see any possible way I could miss Rick Preston and Spun on four turntables at Staple. Aside from the fact that the music couldn’t help but be incredible, Kai informed me that he was coming out to Staple, sans Marina.
I didn’t find him immediately, but I went upstairs to look, and found Patrick and Gigi, to whom I ended up talking until I spotted Kai, at nearly midnight, so I missed John Michael‘s set. I have friends who like to talk my ears off until I finally just said, “It’s time for me to get on the dancefloor.” I had been at the club for an hour and a half and hadn’t set foot on the dancefloor.
Rick Preston and Spun were definitely spinning off each other, brewing up a tech-house set that had the dancefloor in a frenzy until the lights came on. I was handicapped early by low energy, soreness in my hamstring, and having stepped out of my circle to make way for guys attempting to breakdance. But, by the end of the night, I was soaked through, having been up on the stagelet for half an hour, dancing with Christina and Angie, two extraordinarily delectable beauties.
Afterwards, Kai and I (along with his coworkers, Kevin and Rich) headed over to Mel’s on Van Ness, ate overpriced food served by an incredibly snotty waitress, and headed back toward the SOMA to drop people off at their cars. The most impressive part was that Kai was out until 5.