Second Saturday: music, food and boobs

“What is this, gorgeous street?” said a perceptive homeless man standing on J Street.

He had a point. Crowds of people migrated from building to building in their Second Saturday best, under the glow of Midtown lights, serenaded by a collection of street musicians. Some people were casually attired, sporting khaki shorts, linen button-down shirts, Birkenstocks and carrying a map of art galleries. And then there were the Vogue-ish groups who planned to make a night of the event by eventually progressing to a club or lounge. With my friends (a mix of both categories) in tow, we embarked down J Street to experience the food, art and music of Second Saturday for the first time.

Having recently moved from a city where the monthly gallery openings often were attended only by the artists and their friends, it was thrilling to see so many supporters in Midtown. I was prepared to experience a variety Sacramento art, but was shocked to encounter a hodgepodge of music, from the elegant violin on the steps of the Sacramento School of Music to electronic/pop/indie music emanating from Cuffs Urban Apparel.

Kru Restaurant was a great spot Saturday for sushi, sake bombs and people watching. Once my group was seated outside, we were serenaded by the New Humans performing in front of Cuffs. People crowded around the store and many stopped mid-stroll across the street to listen. Unfortunately, they played only long enough to accompany our edamame appetizer. It would have been amazing if they’d played for a little while longer.

However, I didn’t have much time to lament over the loss of our background music. In the midst of enjoying our tofu miso soup, a stretch Hummer drove by with screaming girls hanging out of the window. And in a true Girls Gone Wild moment, I saw a little more of them than I cared to experience.

Sadly, once we finished our sushi and succession of sake bombs, it was too late to tour art galleries, which I’m told happens often to Second Saturday virgins. Instead, we walked through clouds of marijuana smoke and peered through gallery windows to catch glimpses of art.

Luigi’s Slice was packed during limbo hour—the time between the end of art hopping and the beginning of Saturday night clubbing. We stopped in for a couple pitchers, pizza for those who didn’t fill up on sushi and an Olympic update—as did many, many others.

We ended the night, or rather began the second phase of the evening, at the Townhouse to catch Wallpaper, Hot Tub, Shaun Slaughter and Jon Droll. Despite the smoky sauna that was the upstairs (turns out the air conditioning was broken), the club was packed with enthusiastic dancers and drinkers; the combination of which led to my toes getting sufficiently intoxicated.