October 24th, 2007 at 5:47pm |
Peering into other people’s homes is totally kosher as long as you are able to keep at least one foot on the sidewalk. It’s what they want, people want you to look in and drool over their gigantic televisions, covet their pretty lives. That’s why they leave curtains wide open, They want you to imagine yourself living there, throwing hip little soirees, creating passionate moments in every room, raising a happy family, all of it.
I remember such a night in late June. I was walking with my girlfriend in the Mission and pointing up into different windows, sometimes admiring, dreaming a little of the possibilities.
From just down the street we could hear music and happy people. As we approached, we saw through an open window a glowing green light and a revolving disco ball anchored into the ceiling. I stopped to point some more, when I felt a squeeze on my hand and I was all of a sudden being led up the stairs into the eerie green light.
We cant just go in, we cant just go in wecantjustgoinwecantjustgoin! My futile cries quickly evaporating into the sweaty crowd of hipsters, grungy types, hippie types, yuppie types. We’re in, the mirror ball is spinning above my head, there’s a cold beer in my hand. I’m a party crasher, and this is my first official crashed party.