Just one of the countless sit-down breaks we took at yesterday’s (not-quite) Old School K-Pop Party.
A lethal combination of J‘s lethargy and my killer heels. Killer, like literally.
Okay there were sporadic moments of brilliance where everyone screamed and rushed down to dance like happy monkeys at the very first suggestion of a Korean lyric, but the K-Pop party was really 90% American hip-hop and 10% K-Pop. None of which was old school, which strangely, was what the event was named in the first place. Oh well.
And to end off the sadly uneventful night, I made my journey home barefoot. And got stopped midway by a random Indian dude who gave me at least 15 dumb reasons about why I should give him my name, all in a span of five minutes. Does the sight of a shoeless girl suggest vulnerability or meekness of some sort?