Fitness

What I Learned From a 6 a.m. Rave

Here's what happens when you send an uncoordinated late-riser to a 6 a.m. dance party. Spoiler: It isn't pretty

by Amanda Montell | 1 COMMENT

PHOTO 4/7

Things You Can't Unsee From what I can tell, no one else is suffering from this same paralyzing awkwardness. The room isn't packed -- there's a solid eight inches between each dancer -- and while that maximizes the visibility factor, paves the way for my party-pooping eye of judgment, people just don't seem to notice. The crowd is an eclectic mix, but almost everyone is smiling, boogying to the un-tssss, un-tssss of the DJ's cyclic rhythm.

I realize the one thing I did get right was the uniform: My galaxy-patterned leggings are spot on. It occurs to me that I've never seen so many leggings in my life as in this very room. The variety of prints is extraordinary: Holographic hexagons, Technicolor florals, jailbird stripes, anime, tropical landscapes... there's even a pair patterned with what I'm guessing is every available image of Ryan Gosling's face.

The spectacle doesn't stop there.

There is a guy in a lizard suit, a girl in a pizza suit, tutus, bunny ears, mouse ears, cat ears, faux animal ears of all species.

There's a pregnant couple rubbing the mom-to-be's belly to the beat. There's a woman with blue hair taking toothy, Tumblr-bound selfies.

A trio of burly men with brass instruments conga-lines in, playing along to the music, and the crowd goes wild. A breakdance circle forms -- they love that too.

And everyone, but me, is dancing.

SEE NEXT PAGE: A Lesson in Rhythm

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