As expected, the mash-up dj at the rogue turned out to be pretty good. I told him so right before we walked out after less than an hour of his set. Why 'd we leave so soon? Because the crowd sucked worse than a indie rock posture party. We got about an hour early for our dance troop meeting (bars are a great place to focus) and by the time the dj started we had already polished off our first pitcher. During this time we had noticed some break dancers warming up, stretching, trying out some head spins with their shiny black helmet. I took it as a good sign. Not that I think break dancers make good dancers, but that there might be something worth while at the rogue besides the beer. The music starts, the b-boys do some stunts, and nobody's dancing except Richard and me. People just play pool and give us looks. At one point Richard and I battled the b-boys. For show and effect the b-boys totally won, but they had no rhythm. I wish I had my girls with me! Where was Peach and Debbie Dinner? We could have totally showed up those chumps! I did pull some random innocent bystander by the hand and lead them to the dance floor, but it didn't really work so well. I've never ballroomed battle style, but I could make it work, just you wait.
We walked out of there shortly after some blondie told me I had no ass. I said to her "Lets see what you've got" motioning to the floor. Then she signed to me that I had bad breath by waving her hand past her nose. Whatever lady. Your not even cool enough to read this blog, so shove it. I sat down in her seat and reached for her drink. Her friend said to me "your not that bad". I took a tug and said "It's empty."
We then rode to rumors, walked in, and were met by the most enthusiastic dance floor in Bellingham.
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