As I drove along 16th street, I spotted it. A bright, loud party going on in an alleyway, nestled between warehouses in Potrero Flats. I dodged around a taxi in the process of loading and swung into the opposite lane almost into incoming traffic.

I found a parking spot around the corner. Once parked, I hesitated. Loud music? Flashy lights? Dressed up people? High heels, shiny sport jackets, open bar, boring dull topics?

I wasn’t quite sure. I walked around the corner unable to get in touch with Chris…who somehow got inside. Uniformed unsmiling police officers stood guard at the main entrance and the back.

Finally, I got a call right as I was going to bounce the joint. “Sorry, I was in the bathroom!”

“Really?” I said. “The men’s bathroom has a line.”

“It’s all guys here,” he replied. It was…quite a sausage fest.

I walked to the fence and he convinced me that yes I did want Asian tacos and ice cream sandwiches. As he was buried within the food trucks and carts, a girl dressed up in a medium gray cloak and leggings walked by and started taking photos with her phone. Then she asked me, “What’s going on?”

“I think it’s a celebration for the launch of Oouya,” I said. “I am not sure if I really want to go.”

Her curiosity was infectious and Chris immediately offered to get us both in. At the door, Chris said that he already talked to the guys and nobody blinked an eye. I embarrassingly slid through the check-in as bracelet was slipped onto my skinny wrist.

We were in.