Y. Jameson
Pink. Red laser lights. Pealing purple and pink cheetah patterned wallpaper. I wrapped my headphones around my ipod as I waltzed through chairs and snake infested lapdances. Everything slows down as I get closer to the stage. When I looked to the right, three men sat glued in the booth. The shifting of their eyes harmonized with the electric bass reverberating out of the speakers. That was enough for me.
