We’ve all been there. It’s Sunday. At a festival. You can barely put pants on, let alone make yourself breakfast. Well, we got you. Our costumed French maids will be sauntering through Pulga with trays of fresh cooked bacon and bottles of the finest bubbles pocket change can buy. They will get your energy up, your blood alcohol up, and they might even raise a few... eyebrows... with those sexy uniforms! Sunday Funday, indeed.
Break out your finest jog wear and lace up those trainers, cuz it's goin down Sunday morning. Sweat bands, tube socks and spandex strongly encouraged. It's important to keep up that cardio, but this is oh sooo much more. This is a fashion show meets a test of will meets a reason to day drink.
When Sanctuary is not enough of a sanctuary, and the outside world becomes too much to handle, sneak away to the Chill Dome, and regroup, or re-up, or whatever you need to do you... Just keep it chill.
Challenge yourself and join us with a friendly game of kickball, where not being able to tell which team you are on, let alone which way to run, is part of the fun. And who knows when a spontaneous human pyramid will break out!
If Saturday night is the witching hour, than Saturday afternoon is the cocktail hour. We'll be poppin' corks and fillin' cups till the well runs dry. Bring an empty vessel, and don't forget your ID. We got the rest.