Perspiring dance floor...

As I thought,the night heading towards a good end, it seemed to just to start. Across the bay, where the streets sleep for only a couple hours, the late evening turned from "go saints!" "time out!", to a mighty fist pump night of shuffling my toes across the wet wooden dance floor. The place where we "ended up" was packed only with a few people still messed up from 2 nights ago. Them sitting on the plastic chairs outside near the black deer watching the crowd from the corner of the patio next to the water fall. People with their bad habits of inhaling the cancer in their lungs made me a bit jealous, as I miss that sensation. The night was sweaty, as the cool breeze from the nearby freeway blew against my face. but as the night slowly turned to an early morning, Patrons remarkably kept flooding onto the dance floor, making the dance floor perspire with the beverages of the crowd above. My legs almost give out, as i forget to always do a yoga stretch before i move to the beat. With the satisfaction of the relaxing the muscles of my thighs, I jump back onto the battlefield, where it seems the bass is trying to pound out of my chest. I look at all my mates out on the floor with me, afraid of their intentions. Is that girl really a guy? or is this guy trying to dance with me. I turn, get my groove on, and try not to make eye contact to add to the confusion. I hear the 10 minute call from my ride back to the other side of the bay. Apparently a night always has to come to an end, and remembered in the back of my cloudy mind. Cloudy, but clear in thought of it actually happened. a night remembered as the Aquarius starts the new year, a happy chip toothed camper, with "long hair, don't care" attitude that wont seem to change anytime soon. But is that a bad thing? I guess I can leave that up to ones perspective....