at Showbox at the Market

After acing the downhill parallel parking job, my roommates and I hustled down the hill and over a few blocks to the Showbox. There on the marquee read: Julian Casablancas. We strutted our way through with just a few straggler smokers still hanging outside. My roommate got stopped at the door for a purse search, finding a five hour energy drink, the bouncer said she could give it to him or chug it. Not wanting to waste the $2.59 she spent on it, she shot it back. Little did we know then, but it was a good decision because an hour later we were dancing our asses off.

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