9:30 pm-10:42 pm: Gavin Newsom for Mayor

"Newsom! Newsom! Newsom!" I once again scream loudly. More startled people turn around.

"Gavin! Gavin! Gavin!" people start chanting in an orderly fashion as I note that the name isn't really one conducive to a good chanting. The large-screen TV then flashes a news program, which includes a glimpse of the Gonzalez headquarters, eliciting booing and people making the thumbs-down sign.

"We slammed him hard," states an overgrown frat man with a neat blue sweater. "Nice guy, but he's crazy!"

Across the room, Patty winks at me and blows me a kiss (mental note to self: "Must avoid her!"). Everyone grows silent as the TV news breaks in and announces, "Gavin Newsom is your new mayor!" Supporters respond with more orderly cheering, shouts of "Yeah!" and more orderly, but not passionate, chanting of "Gavin! Gavin! Gavin!"

When the newscast cuts to the Newsom headquarters, I strategically place myself in front of the TV camera in order to see myself on the news waving a "Newsom" sign. Patty is now all over some other much younger guy. The DJ spins the dance classic "Celebrate Good Times." Strangely, people seem happy but not overjoyed; somehow, they appear neutral -- demonstrating something more like an I-told-you-so attitude. The stage is suddenly filled with a multiethnic mix of people, and instrumental victory rock, reminiscent of the "Rocky" theme, blares from the sound system.

Our new mayor takes the stage accompanied by his wife, a lingerie model turned assistant DA -- how do you make that jump? -- and the new Democratic Wonder Boy delivers an inspiring speech that begins with "Change is on its way!"

At 10:37 pm, the speech concludes. After a smattering of light confetti and a sound-system playing of U2's "Beautiful Day," the place -- emblematic of our new in-bed-by-11 San Francisco -- starts clearing out.

While I'm going to the bar one last time, my "Matt Gonzalez" campaign sign accidentally falls out of my jacket pocket -- or maybe I simply took it out to see what would happen. A drunk guy threatens to beat me up, but his female friend jumps in.

"I'm Gavin Newsom's cousin," she states, showing me her ID to prove that she is in fact GavinNewsom's first cousin.

"Do you want to go to a really good party?" I ask Gavin Newsom's first cousin.