Mariqueen Maandig of "West Indian Girl"

In Search for House on a Saturday Night

The night started out at Bistro 412. Typical place that required you to dress up prissy and uncomfortable and charged you cover after 11pm. It was one of them places that transform from a restaurant into a club at night. Problem is that it is rude to kick out your diners. There was a party in the patio, where they usually play House. The DJ was setting up, but the old folks from the party before were still chilling, mingling and chatting. And inside, they were playing some nasty hip hop radio mix shit. Fuck that.

Off to Cardiff we go. No dress code, no cover, good music. We usually hate this place on a Saturday night because it gets too damn crowded. But around 1am the crowd thinned out, and we made ourselves some space in the back. Then the music got weird. THEN THE LIGHTS CAME ON. Son of a bitch.

We remembered that someone had a party tonight at his house. We were still antsy and blueballsy from not getting our fix tonight, so we find out where he lived and crashed the party. Cool dude we met a few weeks ago. He was a fellow electronic music lover and we were going to hook up his iPod to get some music. But we couldn't plug it into ANY OF THE SPEAKERS AROUND HIS HOUSE. All we had were a few CDs. We played them and now we're getting a little frustrated. Then we remember that there is one place that never closes, and always has good music, energy and crowd.

At 3.30am, we say fuck it, leave San Jose, and head to San Francisco's EndUp. At 4.30am, we're sitting in the car outside EndUp. Two of us bust open some beer to celebrate our arrival, and the other two in the backseat pop open cans of Red Bull.

"Are we ready?"
"Let's go"
:D

We left just in time to see the sun rise on our drive back.

Beware of tiger

Can You Feel It?

Down the road or across the street?

This sucker looks more promising.