The crisp air strikes your naked skin and bumps rise in a ripple effect down your legs and up your arms. Your fast walk breaks into more of a sprint. The pain of your ice-cold skin breaking the freezing winter air is unforgiving and seems endless. The once yellow blobs that formed a square in the distance now light up the sign that reads, “The Congress Theatre”. And immediately the routine begins; your I.D. is ripped out of your paralyzed hand and thrust right back in. Still trying to collect your thoughts on the situation you’re being shoved forward to the next security guard who scans the ticket stub peering out of your motionless fingers. Now feeling all personal boundaries invaded, you hightail it through those barely gold doors to be greeted with an immediate wave of warm air coaxing your body while your cold, tense skin relaxes. But the moment of bliss is soon to be over when you look up to notice the finale of the violation taking place.

Let the awkwardness begin! Step up, arms out, legs apart and searched…thoroughly. “Okay go.” Relieved by your dismissal you spring forward to reunite with your friends and wait for the others. With the first step, you feel the vibration of the bass under your feet. As you wait for the rest of the clan to make it through the security of hell this energy is building up inside you. That anxiousness to rip through the crowd and dash to the front and convulse like a four year old after 5 pixie sticks because you just don’t care.

Everyone’s here, so you make a spastic 360 and b-line it through those theatre doors. And even though you’re blinded by the lights and deaf from the bass, you are filled with this sense of familiarity and pleasure. So you let this creepy ass smile spread across your face because you know you have the rest of the night to just get weird with the best of them.