Playing in the Sandbox

The New Culture, the book says, paints a picture of a city young and modern. And it is, we are, we guess, whatever. Dress up and stand next to dressing rooms, gulp down drinks and watch the models.

The music at the bar is not so new, more re-mixed, re-lived sounds from not so long ago at clubs in other cities. So the moves come quick, pulled from back the brain, hips shake and arms toss in the same way they once did at Circa.

Double takes bring back bands and shows from forever go, girls look different in party dresses and out of argyle emo sweaters. Suddenly I’m sixteen, nineteen, twenty-two, all at once, together. Shake head and move with the music. Relax into it and dance with the feeling.