I used to work in downtown San Francisco, not far from the Moscone convention center. I walked past it all the time on my way from the bus terminal to my building.
One day I passed an older couple all decked out in scary square-dancing gear. I thought that was odd, but there's lots of tourists in downtown SF and you see all sorts of outfits. Then I saw another scary outfit, where his Western shirt was made from the same fabric as her nearly-horizontal skirt. Oy! I was surrounded by them, each outfit tackier than the one before, and almost all with that same matching-theme.
I finally realized that they were all walking toward the convention center, from the inexpensive hotels nearby. They were walking to Moscone to participate in some big-ass square-dancing convention. And they were wearing those outfits at eight fucken o'clock in the morning while I was on my way to work.
But y'know, I've been known to rise before dawn and strap on bells and dance the sun up with hankies in my hand, so I'm not really one to talk...
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One day I passed an older couple all decked out in scary square-dancing gear. I thought that was odd, but there's lots of tourists in downtown SF and you see all sorts of outfits. Then I saw another scary outfit, where his Western shirt was made from the same fabric as her nearly-horizontal skirt. Oy! I was surrounded by them, each outfit tackier than the one before, and almost all with that same matching-theme.
I finally realized that they were all walking toward the convention center, from the inexpensive hotels nearby. They were walking to Moscone to participate in some big-ass square-dancing convention. And they were wearing those outfits at eight fucken o'clock in the morning while I was on my way to work.
But y'know, I've been known to rise before dawn and strap on bells and dance the sun up with hankies in my hand, so I'm not really one to talk...