Amber was in full-effect that night. Every time Lawrence would look away, Amber would start dancing all sexy and freaking him from behind without touching him. Do you know how hard it is to dance all fast behind someone without touching them and accidentally giving yourself away? Girl's got skills.
The best thing I've ever seen in my life was this pack of eight year-old girls from the Lower East Side who rolled up on their bikes to watch in disbelief. Their collective look of "WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE CRACKERS DOING?" cannot even be described.
After watching them try to make sense of the situation for more than five minutes, Grant and I wandered over and tried to make things more interesting. We explained (er, ok - lied) to the girls and told them that the kids were dancing as part of a hidden camera show - they were dancing stupid on purpose in hopes that people would yell stuff at them and heckle them - but the problem was, no one had heckled them yet. We told the girls that if they started shouting insults, they'd totally get to be on MTV. We let them ponder that for a few minutes, and then slunk back to enjoy the magic that ensued. Needless to say, the Dance Revolution packed up and headed back to their NYU dorm in a fucking (embarrassed) jiffy.
Kid in the Green shirt: "Do you know what's lame? The fact that people just don't dance, man. I mean, it's like we spend our whole lives being afraid and then one day, we die. That's just so sad. Know what I'm saying?"
Token Asian Friend in Bad Hat: "I'm totally picking up what you're laying down, nigga. Why don't we all go to the park after breakfast and just dance? Just like forget everyone and dance. Let's just totally let go and take it to anotha level. I bet if we do it long enough, everyone else will join in and it will be a big ironic party! I've a boom box and a pair of track pants upstairs. What about the rest of y'all? Y'all with me?"
...a bunch of college freshmen playing a boom box and self-conciously dancing while trying really hard to pass off their insecurity as irony. (The fact that I was standing four feet from them laughing and unabashedly taking pictures probably didn't help). It only took a glance to imagine the conversation that had been held minutes earlier at an NYU dorm cafeteria table that prompted this "happening."
Quicly became a duet. Er, sort of. This girl didn't sing with me, however, she did lay writing on the stage while I sang and did all sorts of crazy floor dancing. It significantly enhanced my performance.
