Because we are your friends ...
You'll never be alone again! Come on!
In order to watch the one and only Xavier de Rosnay pulsate ever so effortlessly between bitter metal beats and syncopated strobe lights I was required to muster my way amidst throes of spandexed femme fatals and crunchy neo-James Deans. One would assume with enough physical forté this would be simple, but sadly my luck reports that Hipsters are self-entitled to everything around them and most particularly their concert space. Alas, I was unable to make way to the front of the crowd with the vapid hopes of announcing my unfaltering admiration and attraction to the one and only Xavier. It turned out to be destiny however, as I was without my fanny pack and parliaments to sacrifice to said God of Hip when the time came.
Knowing that destiny would not fall favorably in my lap that night, I took to the dance floors and could only hope that the fractured light of the disco ball would highlight my ambiguously ethnic charm. This enthusiasm faltered following a few rounds of whiskey sours.
