I had never been to Zanzibar before last night. It's sort of posh. There were a lot of guys dressed in yuppie casual and girls wearing too much perfume. Plus, they don't have a smoking patio, which is really kind of awkward since I'm not sure if you actually are allowed to smoke at all in Santa Monica anymore.

A Touch of Class and Acid Girls were DJing at Shake and Pop, which is an awkwardly titled club given that it appeared as though none of the patrons would be familiar with the work of Green Velvet. Whatever. We had a good time.

When Acid Girls played, I ended up on the floor by myself, as Carlos and Mason stuck around the bar. I had spent too much time dancing by the bar when A Touch of Class played things like S-Express and my tied-for-favorite ABBA song ["Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)"] and Acid Girls were playing Daft Punk and Justice, so I really couldn't help but place myself in the middle of whatever little was going on inside the club. There was this blonde dude, a total Spicoli type that had to have started celebrated 4/20 a week ago, or maybe never stopped celebrating from last year. He grabbed me by the arm and started spinning me around until I would almost hit someone. Then he would grab the person I almost hit and add them to the line, until it was something between a conga line and a square-dance. Eventually, I had to excuse myself, but it was fun while it lasted.

Labels: Clubs, Random