david schrott is everywhere

alright, alright, just dance.

Posted in daily life, philadelphia by thebreakfastdictator on 07/12/2011

We spent two nights on the Moshulu within a week. Both were DJ DeeJay parties and while most wouldn’t consider him the best of DJ’s, he picks a lineup that is hard to beat and we’re gluttons for the boat dancing punishment. There’s another one in under two weeks now, and we’ll certainly be there.

Davey Keips' Summer Bash

Summer nights are the best nights and they keep getting later and later. 5am is now an acceptable bedtime — weekend or work-night. 7 hours of sleep will get us through two weekend nights and maybe just a little more during the work-week.

She’s started drinking coffee now.

I can’t get over this. Two months ago, me and Chad were joking about all the dudes who were “up to bat”. Slowly, they got demoted to the Minors and one off the cuff comment about lucid dreaming on Memorial Day lead to an email a month later which lead to more emails which lead to a dinner in Olde City which lead to… this.

The surrealty of it all has me wondering if this is really my life.

Yes it is.

I sent her the photo above and made the comment that it made sense that the first photo of us was dancing. She corrected me and said it wasn’t the first photo of us. She sent me a picture from a cookout a few months prior and while she was technically correct, it still wasn’t the first photo of us.

The party, while a really good time, wasn’t what we’d expected. Last time it was an all out dance-war and that never materialized. Midnight had rolled around and people were chatting rather than dancing even though Beat Masta J was spinnin’ beats.

“You wanna go find a club if this doesn’t pick up by midnight?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“Okay. 700 Club it is.”


A little after midnight, we slide out the side door so as not to catch hell for leaving early, catch a cab on Moyamensing, drop Maggie in Olde City and carry on to Northern Libs. Our cabbie is the first non-immigrant cabbie I’ve ever had in Philadelphia and he complains about then navigates deftly around the Greek Picnic. $17 later we arrive at the corner of 2nd & Fairmount and head upstairs into the faux-living room. It’s under-crowded for a Friday. Fine by us. It’s Motown night and every song is killer. I grab her hand and twirl her, pull her close to me and kiss her right on the dance floor. Did that really happen? Yes, it did.  Ninety minutes pass while feeling like only ninety seconds. The music stops and we head out into the warm summer air. The walk back to her apartment is shorter than expected and we sit in the park on the corner of Front & Chestnut. I wrap my arm around her and we just talk. Two hours and an $11.91 cab ride back to Fitzwater has me in bed, exhausted but not.

What a night.

…and there’s many more to come.


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