I was all hyped up! I hadn't seen DJ Sasha since he played The Church in Denver, CO, and he was coming to MIAMI. That's only a 6 hour drive, totally worth it, right? I talked my boyfriend into taking me. Mistake number one. Told him how awesome Sasha was live, and how much fun concerts were, and how it would make a great early birthday present to me.

The web site and the tickets said 10pm. Translation = midnight. Mistake number two. I was curious to see the opening DJ, so we got there sometime after 10 and hung out. They messed with the lights, adjusted the volume so loud that I could feel it in my chest (usually my reason for going clubbing, why go if you can't feel it). I had a few drinks figuring I'd sober up by the time 2am rolled around and be totally fine to drive home.

By midnight I'm feeling good. I've had a few, the crowd has filled out the club nicely, and people are excited. I'm dancing, and then sitting (because my new shoes were KILLING ME) and then dancing some more. Mistake number three. Why do I have to wear cute shoes to a concert or club when I'd much rather wear sneakers and be comfy?

1am and still no Sasha. I'm thinking though, he's going to show up at any time, right? 2am and still no Sasha? Is he sick? Battling Montezuma's Revenge? Miss a flight? Too high to DJ?

Mind you, at this point I've had a drink spilled down my back by some ditzy bitch who can't dance and drink at the same time. I've narrowly avoided getting second degree burns from people dancing and smoking at the same time. I've had a beer bottle or two dropped on my new 5 dollar shoes (which is fine, they were totally disposable club wear). Oh, and some pole-dancing fool, who was totally fucked up on drugs, was making one lucky pole his bitch while bumping into me occasionally and actually running into my boyfriend.

Almost 3am and they start playing some screen logo saying SASHA on all the monitors around the club. Some bald guy is up with the other DJ and I'm assuming he's just another tech or roadie. There've been upwards of 5 guys up in the DJ booth at one point or another. Anyways, this guy looked nothing like the Sasha I saw in 2003.

Finally, my boyfriend decides this must be Sasha, but he's not playing anything I'm used to hearing from him, and I have just about all his CDs. I'm used to his more ambient trancey stuff, and this was all hardcore bass beats crap. Around 4:30am I've had enough. My contacts are ready to pop out of my eyes, I feel like I've smoked a pack of cigarettes, and my nice new outfit is soaked in alcohol. In the car my boyfriend turns to me and says, "I want to say this, but I don't want to say it."

I, thinking he's going to say something to the effect of he was right, blah blah blah, DJs really do suck when they get old, etc., reply, "I know, you're right."

"Oh no, that's not what I meant. I just think I'm getting too damn old for this shit." Well damn, so am I.