Dear KFN Resident DJs,
You used to scare the shit out of me, way back when I thought you were all the coolest dudes around. Rolling into the bar right around the time the headlining band would be wrapping up their set and preparing to clear off the stage with your cases of records and confident smiles, you had me convinced that your job more or less involved a) looking cool; b) giving lots of high fives; c) being excellent at partying; and d) the whole spinning records thing. So yeah, far be it from me, the lowly intern, to think I was rad enough to hang out with any of you.
Then, of course, I actually got to know you. Ha. Now I’m going to introduce you to everyone else, at least as well as I can given the limitations of the internet (and my vocabulary, because wow, all eloquence seemed to go out the window with the rest of my dignity on the El ride home last night). Just kidding about that last bit. Hi, Mom.