Here's what I learned the other night, waiting over three hours for celebrated DJ Paul Oakenfold to take the mic at Talbott Street:

• I'm too fucking old for Talbott Street.
• When a hot guy seems to be checking you out in the bathroom, he's really just waiting to ask you if you have any pot.
• The metrosexual is alive and well and shaking his groove thing at Talbott Street, surrounded by girls full of wishful thinking and boys full of libido waiting to spray all over him.
• Some queens even pose while taking a photograph.
• I'm too fucking old for Talbott Street.
• Glow sticks are fucking retarded...
• ...yet people are fascinated by them, and will stare at people wielding them for hours.
• Most dance music is dull and soulless, yet twentysomethings of questionable sexuality will shake, rattle, and roll to it for hours. Non-stop.
• I'm too fucking old for Talbott Street.
• Paul Oakenfold is full of himself and thinks it's okay to show up for a 9PM show at Midnight.
• The drinks at Talbott Street aren't very strong ... two of them did absolutely nothing for me, and if I'd have had two drinks at the 501, I'd have enjoyed my Talbott experience much more. Especially since I'd have been somewhere else.
• Eating spicy Chinese food before going to a gay bar isn't the smartest idea in the world.
• And ... I'm too fucking old for Talbott Street.