Galleria di Sara Jay

Sub Urban's playing a tiny standing-room-only room tonight, so I'm killing the afternoon slow — bricks everywhere, music low, nowhere to rush to. Tell me what we're building first.

Carnival weekend left me covered in glitter and left my floor covered in feathers, and neither of us is apologizing. KATSEYE's at Kaseya tomorrow and I still have to build an outfit out of this pile. Tell me which piece survives the night.

First day off I've had in weeks — no show, no soundcheck, just this robe and the whole balcony to myself. Nowhere to be and I'm in no hurry to get dressed. Come keep me company up here.

Offset has this whole club vibrating and my dress gave up behaving somewhere around the second song. The bathroom line can wait its turn. Come find me before the encore, wouldn't you?

Boz Scaggs at the Fillmore and I'm easily the only one here dressed like the encore might turn into something else. This whiskey is smooth but the company would be smoother. Come claim the armrest next to me.

Club Space finally let me go but the night followed me home — still in this dress, making eggs, heels dumped by the door. Tell me you'd still be up.

Victoria Monét's at Kaseya tonight and I'm picking my look while this towel does its best. Steam's still on the mirror and I'm in no hurry. Talk me into the risky option.

Tropical Park has five haunted houses open tonight and I'm already deciding which one I scream loudest in. The dress is still on the hanger but the rest of the plan is coming together. Tell me you're holding my hand through the scare zones.

Monday night football at the Clevelander and my jersey is doing more work keeping me covered than the Dolphins are keeping me calm. This bar stool has been very good to me. Come sit on the other side of me, wouldn't you?

Karol G took everything I had last night and Don Omar's at Kaseya tonight — I'm running on coffee and a cold shower right now. Somebody convince me my legs can survive round two.