The Perfect Storm

I got an email from Kim today that prompted this.

I went out dancing Saturday night. I hadn't been out in AGES (dancing, not just, you know, out) so I was game. Now here's the thing. We started our night at the anniversary party for MODA FG. They use our frames from time to time for shoots. The party was amazing! The food & drinks were fantastic, as was the fashion show. A nice black runway cut through the center of the room, with people pulling (fierce) poses on either side. Case in point, this guy:



Smoking hot, right? Does he remind you of anyone with his active brooding? And yes, I TOTALLY TAKE PICTURES OF STRANGERS. Don't judge.

Anyway,

When the party was breaking up, Michelle decides she wants to meet up with her friend Tim at Transit. I say OK, let's get our dance on. The girls didn't come out to play for nothing.

We were there for about 15 minutes when I turned to Michelle and said, "Um, we left a party full of beautiful people for a club full of....not." Please believe me when I say were were the hottest pieces in that place. Which would explain how our fun dancy times quickly disintegrated into trying to stay afloat amidst a perfect storm of men I am in no way attracted to.

Honestly, it was a lesson in how many different inflections of the word 'DUDE!?' I could use in one night. Apparently some guys are genuinely shocked that we ladies don't welcome any and every attempt for a dancefloor fondle. I know, shocking!

All in all, it was a very fun, very surreal night. If you'd like to hear me do my favorite accent of the night from the guy that asked me to, "baybee, sho mee sum dans mooovs," you have to catch that in person. It's worth it.