Party Express

I just walked in the door. My feet are aching, my hair is a little chaotic (what's new?), I'm sweaty and still have plenty of adrenaline running through me. These are the classic post-salsa dancing symptoms.

Long story short, I went to a friend of a friend's birthday party tonight. We celebrated Erika's birthday with the help of the Party Express Bus. Basically you rent a bus to take you to 3 different clubs of your choosing in SF.

There were 15 of us on the bus, and our theme for the night was salsa. Erika is from Brazil, and had a mini-entourage of fellow brazilian girls in tow. Erika's husband is completely a compeletely gringo Mormon from Utah. But, they just seem to go together.

The rest of the crew was mixed; most didn't know how to salsa, but they were willing to try.

First stop: Roccapulco. I'm glad I finally got there. It's a nice large space with lots of tables to sit at. The bus just pulls up in front, the guide speaks to the bouncer, and we go straight in. No lines, no nothing. Beautiful. We started at 9:30, and at that hour, Roccapulco was pretty quiet, with only the DJ playing. Danced a few salsa's with on of the Brasilenha's husband, and we had a group merengue (everyone kinda got that rhythm down).
Just as the band was coming on, we had to be off to the next club.

Second: Club Caliente in SOMA. This place was packed, and we were definately an odd bunch to be going in, because
A. We were dressed for Cocomo (ie: no jeans) and everyone in here was more casual and
B. We had lots of tall blond girls (even though some were latin) who tended to stick out.
The DJ was playing Raeggaeton music when we came in, and we kind of danced in smallish circles. I eventually starting dancing with a guy for a while, until he put his face in my cleavage. Then, I was like..."I'm just here to dance, sorry" and told him he could go find someone else, no hard feelings. So, I go back to the group, and, suddenly, see a familiar face in the crowd (or, at least, a familiar looking shaved head). It was Adonai, a friend from salsa class. I couldn't believe it! We talked, and then the DJ started playing better music (merengue & salsa) so we danced until the party express had to take off.

Final stop: Cafe Cocomo. It's funny. This club was so intimidating to me in January of this year. Now, I walked in and it felt so familar---the music, the people, the decor, the vibe, was all welcoming me back. The band tonight was Pepe y su Orquesta Peru. Excellent! We got there around 11:45, managed to find an empty table in the corner, and went about the task of acquiring dance partners.

First up for me: Dago from Colombia. Really fun to dance with - but was trying to convince me that 'we had great energies together' and 'come dance with me 4 nights a week.' He gave me his number, and I promised not to throw it away.
Then we had Virgil, a stout, short mature man who was lots of fun. He had an interesting way of leading with his wrists...but he knew what he was doing and how to communicate, so it worked. We were being silly & danced for a while.
A had the opportunity to be one of two women (the other being "Carmen" aka Raquel) to dance with some guy at the same time. That was cool! How he did it (can't remember his name) I don't know, but it was neat.
The last dancer of the night was Marco. He was very much into the cuban style salsa, but led very well. He would do this crazy knee bends & hops --- seriously just like at the end of the movie Dance with Me. We took a photo together at the end of the night, and agreed to dance again next time we were both at Cocomo.
Finally, the clock sounded 2 am, the lights came up, and the strains of the Beach Boy's "Cocomo" begin to play. The night had come to an end. It was a great time.