Last night, we went to Verboten in Williamsburg to meet up with my two younger cousins — two brothers. I’ve formed a bond with the 22-year-old over the past several years and have become a mentor of sorts (can’t believe I’m 14 years older!), mainly because of our shared love for underground dance music. While my scene is gone in most ways, it remains in others.
After Verboten, we went to Output around the corner, and after dancing for a while on my own, a man came up to me and said, “I was just watching you. You’re like a little ship in a stormy sea.” He was polite and appropriate — not some sleazy guy trying to pick me up — and I smiled and said thank you. He gave me a kiss on my head, then walked off.
I love these random moments. And I thought his comment was on point. That’s exactly how I feel sometimes — in the middle of a crowd, in chaos, at 3 am when things may no longer make sense, but holding my own, bound to the sound.