Where to start? Any description will fail to do it justice. Let me just say that it was NOT POSSIBLE to be a wallflower or fail to enjoy yourself at this party. I was supposed to go with three other people, none of whom showed. I had to stand outside in the cold waiting to get in for over an hour. Who cares? Best fucking party of my life.
The randomness of the attendees, the skill of the DJs, the cheap booze, the silliness of the hosts all combined in a glorious, harmonious whole. I danced with a homeless guy. I danced with yuppie chick. I danced with a couple guys and glanced over to see a blowup of the famous “Gaywads, Dorkwads Sign Historic Wad Accord” headline and realize that my dance partners resembled the photograph. There were spontaneous outbreaks of breakdancing, a Rainbow Connection sing-a-long, goth chicks dressed as dark fairies with tendriled wings, hipsters, hippies, Marina girls, dot com holdovers and industrial obsessives. Everyone had a great time, and nobody gave a shit what you wore, how much you made or who your friends were.
Needless to say, I signed up for the newsletter.