One More Time, We’re Gonna Celebrate

We got it in our heads that we wanted to go dancing one night while in DC. I presented the idea somewhat jokingly, and as soon as it came out of my mouth I half regretted it and half looked forward to it. The idea built momentum and became set in stone the moment our friend DDA mentioned he was planning on attending the same Daft Punk DJ night. At that point it felt so indelibly fated that even lack of sleep, a snowstorm, and the general laziness that comes when good food and pjs are involved, couldn’t prevent us from going out.

we couldn’t take photos inside of U Street Music Hall so we took plenty of selfies while waiting in line in the bathroom and outside the club

what started off so tame…

…turned into this…

pretty sure they are singing along to backstreet boys

and I’m pretty sure I’m singing along to Richard Marx

The sad thing is I’m not even that drunk. Also, I might have been “jamming” to Richard Marx again.

♫♫ Lady in Red ♫♫

the sister decided to order everything in Spanish that night

hello, old friend

my sister’s face kills me

And so, three former party goers hit the DC club scene whereby we were some of the oldest people in the crowd. We arrived early, checked in our coats (as that was the sensible old person thing to do), threw back a few shots, and then hovered by the bar, drinks in hand, while eyeing the dance floor. Thankfully U Street Music Hall had a mixed crowd with people of all ages and not a shiny, unbuttoned shirt in sight. Eventually the combination of alcohol and Daft Punk kicked in and we found ourselves on the dance floor, jumping around with the youngsters, dare I say, showing them how it was done. This was *our* music after all.

Our friend showed up with more friends in tow. We drank some more, danced some more, and then he invited us to meet up with them at a Korean karaoke spot in Adams Morgan. We laughed. Adams Morgan. Do people still party in Adam’s Morgan?

Once again the night took us where it needed to take us and we willingly followed it. Our night progressed from dancing to French electronic music, to sing-screaming-karaoke to bad 90’s hits, to Julia’s empanadas, and finally to jumbo slice. Because no night in Adam’s Morgan is complete unless it ends with jumbo slice.