We turned off the AC at midnight for a reason

I was in the DJ booth at the Graduate, watching the dance floor pack in tighter as the night built momentum. It was the late 80s, and I'd landed a job spinning records at what was technically a college bar near Sac State — restaurant by day, party central on weekends. Every weekend we were packed.

At midnight, like clockwork, I'd reach over and flip the switch. AC off. Within minutes, people started peeling off the dance floor, heading to the bar, sweating, thirsty. Drink sales went up. I'd cue up a slow song. The energy shifted. It was all intentional.

The booth was my domain. The only way in was crawling through a side door, a tiny hatch, so if you were a big guy or gal, good luck!  I controlled the crowd, I knew what they liked and didn’t like, so if we needed to clear the floor, I wouldn’t play a favorite. People reacted to new music in real time — sometimes they agreed with my choices, sometimes it fell flat. Empty dance floor made that obvious.

That's the thing about reading a room — whether it's a packed club or a bakery counter. You learn what people expect, what they trust, and when they're ready for something new.

When I took over my aunt's bakery in Daly City, I didn't walk in and change everything. She'd built trust with her customers over years. They came in for specific things — the staples, the Filipino classics they grew up with. I kept those. But a bakery can't survive on nostalgia alone.

So I watched. Who ordered what. What sold out. What sat. What people asked for that we didn't have. Same as reading a dance floor — you give them enough of what they know to keep them comfortable, then you test something new. A different filling. A seasonal item. See if they follow you.

Some things land. Some don't. An empty case at the end of the day tells you everything, just like an empty dance floor did. But you can't be afraid to try, and you can't force it. You ease people into change, the same way I'd slip a new track into a set at midnight after turning off the AC and getting everyone back to the bar.

Turns out DJing wasn't about the music. It was about timing, reading energy, and knowing when to shift without losing the crowd. A bakery's the same. You don't shock people. You guide them.