I realized this morning that while I wrote about the flash mob yesterday, I didn’t actually tell you about the flash mob, and THAT is because I was typing with the debate on in the background and I was trying to keep my head from exploding. I’m definitely not going to write about the debate (see above re: head exploding), but that explains why I said “oh, we saw a flash mob!” and then didn’t tell you anything about it. It’s not because I’m mean.
So, this flash mob. We were at Blairally Vintage Arcade, which doesn’t have a website but does have a Facebook page, and – yeah, hold on, I have to stop there. My hate for the name burns with the heat of a thousand suns, and I can’t continue without explaining why (although some of you may have worked it out already because you’re smart like that). The place is on Blair Blvd, with its door facing an alley that runs through the block. Blair Alley, right? So why is it “Blairally”? WHY?!?
Okay. We were at the arcade, which is also a bar, which also has a DJ sometimes, and I was kicking ass at 4-player Pacman (which is neither here nor there). That evening one of the bartenders, a very nice woman named Rio, was talking to me about gin. She wears a sailor hat like this:
That is also neither here nor there.
The DJ was playing 80s and 90s music and had already refused to take any requests unless they were Prince songs. Elena, Kirsten, and I were dancing, and this other woman came over and asked us if we knew the dance to Thriller because they’re doing it at 8:30. We’d been warned. Invited, but also warned. So Thriller started, and the dance floor, which was small to begin with, completely filled up. There were at least 40 people, all completely into the zombie dance thing. Very fun to watch.
Maybe that wasn’t really a flash mob, now that I think about it. I mean, they were people at a bar with music and dancing, who all did the one dance together. It’s not like they were wandering the neighborhood and broke into a dance randomly. When they do it for Halloween, maybe it’ll be more flash mob-like.
I have to stop saying flash mob. It sounds dumber every time. Flash mob. You’re a mob.