Les Foufounes Electriques is a gigantic club, big enough for several parties to take place simultaneously. Early on we set up shop in the patio, as the inside was just too hot for those as elaborately dressed as ourselves, but eventually we moved to the main room. In this room, on the way to the bathroom, a dj with an enormous green mohawk spun excellent old-skool punk the entire night. Halfway through the night I had been entranced to hear "California Über Alles" pounding through the place, and I'd run out to dance in front of the booth. I ended up stomping about with the Bella Morte bassist, the only one dancing in the room. Even so, I was over the moon with joy. As the night went on, I found that I recognized very little coming out of the booth - but the vibe was so pure, so straght ahead fun punk, that I couldn't help but enjoy myself in that space. When I heard "Lust for Life" start to rumble through the speakers, I knew I had to take a second shot at making my own dancefloor. But by this time a dancefloor had formed. Like a cloud coalescing around a speck of dust, like a pearl forming around a grain of sand, an impromptu D.I.Y. dancefloor had formed around those punk rock darlings, Bella Morte. Even Pluto was far below me in my joy. So we danced. And danced. And danced. I felt a bit self conscious in Stacy's long black medieval dress, but I found that I could skank just as well in high heels & a skirt as I can in docs & shorts, so took off my princess diadem and whirled back into the fray. Girls going to the loo shot us dirty looks as they threaded through the crowd of punkers & onlookers, but we didn't care. We stomped through the Clash. We stomped through the Ramones. I became aware that the Devil & Advocate had joined party; I shot them a grin and kept dancing. And then...oh my. The Sex Pistols. "Who'd have thought that 'Anarchy in the UK' would lead to actual anarchy?" We were all howling the lyrics at each other, full of good feeling. Then the disturbance began. It seemed at first that a rampaging rhino had taken over the body of a man. He was totaled, and seemed intent on totaling everyone. A girl fell down and twisted her knee. Stacy was knocked on her ass, sustaining a noticeable bruise. But almost immediately, an even larger guy got him in a headlock. The two of them stayed in the middle of the dancefloor, locked in a violent, intimate pose and swaying from side to side. The rest of us nervously resumed our punk stomping, pausing for a couples dance for 2 sets of punks (inluding the Bella Morte crew) that took up the whole floor. I felt like I was watching the Punk King & Queen take their ceremonial dance. I could not stop grinning, try as I might to look more imposing. It was simply the best punk dancing ever. All I ever wanted to do was move around this floor with these people. No, I could not stop grinning. We danced until Andy started wishing others goodbye. I stepped up to him and flashed my perma-grin. "In case we never see you guys again, I want you to know that this weekend was fabulous, and your band is a large part of the reason why." This earned bear hugs for me and my crew. I think we floated all the way back to the table. I know I did. Two members of Bella Morte & my left shoulder, dancing. No really, I was there. Detail of a photo by Pink Cyber Kitty