The Juice Box

Rating: 5 out of 5 bottles of water!

Rating: 5 out of 5 bottles of water!

by David Shearer Pedersen

One year ago exactly, I came in to work on the last Monday of September to find my regular lunch buddy was missing. The next day, when he showed up to work, he informed me that he had taken the day off to recover from an event he had attended and worked at on Sunday night, which lasted until the early hours of Monday morning. I asked him for more details, as I could sense in his tone that this event was not just any event – it was THE event. Over lunch that day, he poured out details about this other-worldly party that only happens once a year, but is also a full year in the making. Thousands of hot men, a packed dance floor from start to finish, fresh music and beats from a carefully and blindly selected out of town DJ, and, best of all, hundreds of thousands of dollars raised for several handpicked charities. Usually, when I hear things are too good to be true, I find myself highly skeptical and often a bit dismissive. Expectations are incredibly difficult to manage, and being disappointed is never fun.

He ended our lunch by saying: “You should come next year. I already have a ticket for you.”

And that’s when the floodgates opened. In late October, a friend of mine offered to take me to my first circuit party on Halloween weekend. The event was at 1015 Folsom and the Freemasons knocked my socks off from start to finish. I was completely blindsided by the sense of community and acceptance I felt on that dance floor. The love was palpable. Many of my current friendships were conceived that night, and I couldn’t believe I had spent 2 years in San Francisco and had never been exposed to this very special scene.

Over the past year, I’ve been lucky enough to attend events ranging from New York Pride to White Party to Dore Alley and, of course, Real Bad. Currently, I’m experiencing a sense of relief that I did not start my circuit party journey with Real Bad. I started this year small, and ended it big. I would certainly have been overwhelmed if Real Bad had been my first circuit event.

Heading in to Sunday night, I was visibly nervous and, frankly, a bit stressed. Over the past year, I had heard so much about Real Bad that my expectations had exploded out of control. As I was lucky enough to have found a VIP ticket, upon arrival at 1015 Folsom I was directed by security to use the side alley entrance. The red carpet was metaphorically and literally rolled out. Security was quick and easy, and I was greeted by some friendly and familiar Real Bad volunteers at the door. I was given a brief lay of the land – where to check my clothes, in-and-out privileges, etc. – had a yellow band snapped around my wrist and was sent on my way. The VIP clothes check was just as easy, and the woman working the coat room was alarmingly friendly considering she had a 9 hour shift to work.

This fluidity and ease set the tone for the rest of the night. Every detail was clearly thought about and mastered. There was not one moment in which I caught myself thinking: “They really could have done this a lot better.” The bar lines were never long, the bathroom lines remained manageable and the VIP experience was certainly worth the extra $20.

When I arrived at 7:30pm, I took a quick glance down to the dance floor to find it almost completely full…or what I previously thought “full” was until about an hour later when there was not one inch of space that wasn’t taken up. DJ Bryan Reyes expertly started his set with some pop anthem favorites – most notably David Guetta’s “Night of Your Life” featuring Jennifer Hudson and Alexis Jordan’s “Happiness” – which helped warm up the crowd before transitioning in to darker, faster beats later in the evening. My favorite moment of the event came exactly at the peak hour of 10pm. The dance floor was packed, but the heat had not become overwhelming just yet. Right on the hour, I heard the first few beats from one of my current favorites, Leona Lewis’ #1 dance hit “Collide”. Right as she hit the chorus and the chill-inducing beat dropped, confetti exploded over the dance floor and was met with loud, vocal appreciation from the entire venue. This song marked the transition from light to dark, as Brian quickly but seamlessly took us out of the mainstream and in to heavy beats that worked the crowd in to a sweat and considerably rose the temperature of the dance floor.

Throughout the night, I did hear complaints about the temperature of the main floor. My tolerance for heat is certainly on the lower end, but I had been forewarned at least a dozen times that the heat was pretty difficult to endure for long periods of time. The upstairs VIP room proved to play a crucial component in the success of Real Bad, as it provided a much cooler space to dance in and free water distributed by several atrociously hot men. Around midnight, volunteers distributing frozen popsicles walked through the crowd – an expertly thought out surprise that palpably raised the energy in the room. For those without VIP access, the underground lounge featuring San Francisco’s DJ Steve Sherwood was a cool refuge that managed to stay crowded yet not overfilled over the course of the evening. When Bryan’s beats became a bit too fast and hard for me, I wandered down to the underground lounge to check out the space and to hear what Steve was spinning. I ended up staying there for the remainder of my evening, as Steve’s set was certainly more my speed at that point in the night. Steve kept the energy high without overdoing it, and considering the constant growth of the crowd, even after 2am, it was clear that enjoyment was being had all around.

By 2:30am, my body had given up. My one regret for the weekend was that I failed at pacing myself. Novice mistake. Before Real Bad, I had attended an event each night starting on Thursday and, while they were all fun, I should have stuck to my original plan of saving the bulk of my energy for Sunday’s main event. After gathering my clothes, I peered over the edge of the upstairs balcony to get one more final glimpse of the dance floor before I took off. Even in spite of all of the stories I had heard about Real Bad, I still felt bewildered and taken aback by the pure and intense energy vibrating off of the crowd. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

On my ride home, I found myself feeling a bit depressed and anxious that future events would not even begin to stack up against Real Bad. By the time I had arrived at my apartment, I had come to a very clear and obvious conclusion: there is no comparison. Real Bad is such a special and unique landmark that judging it against any other event would be comparing apples to oranges. The amount of effort, time and heart put in to this event puts Real Bad in to a league clearly of its own. I’ve never heard: “That event was great, but not as good as Real Bad.” Never. I almost cringe at just calling Real Bad an “event” or “party”, because it’s so much more than that. Pride and love pulsed through the crowd from beginning to end without missing a beat.

Real Bad beautifully closed out a whirlwind year for me. I woke up on Monday morning, beaming with pride as I am lucky enough to be part of a community that has found a way to create such a spectacular event that gives its attendees just as much as it gives back to charity. There’s nothing like it.

Congratulations to everyone involved with Real Bad. Your blood, sweat and tears built a monumental and profound celebration that has immeasurably inspired me to “do good.”

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Tags: REAL BAD XXIII