The royal we went to Takeover BAM on Saturday night for a while. It was fun. We have pictures, like this one, of headless plaster bodies suspended over a dance floor.
Not pictured, sadly, are any of the movie marathons (I hear Saturday Night Fever was exceptionally feverish), because what kind of dick brings a camera into a movie theater and takes pictures during the movie? Not us, we are not that kind of dick. Also not pictured is the concerts because we didn’t want to sit in the press area. They wouldn’t be very good photos, Annie Clark (St. Vincent) is tiny, and you would not be able to see her anyway. (Sufjan Stevens, by the way, gave a happily awkward introduction. He did not seem natural in front of people, shocking.) But we did take pictures of strangers dancing, without their permission!
A big difference between this year’s and last year’s event was that the BAM building actually grew two stories higher, or else just used rooms on the second and third floor that I did not know were open to the public (they usually aren’t). There was food on the third floor and a view of the dance floor, and on the fourth floor was a lounge, with a bar and music and ping pong and video games (see below) and attractive people and attractive Ikea tapestry draped along the walls, for a homey feel.
Oh, right, there were video games like Guitar Hero and Wii bowling. Pictured. The short personish thing in red is someone’s small daughter; her back is to the camera because it is creepy to take pictures of other people’s children. There were a surprising number of children at the event; they mostly kept to themselves. They seemed to be having a good time, with the video games and the staying up late around grown-ups. One of them was complaining to his mother that, because of his vaguely official-seeming black windbreaker, people were asking him about the event; he was all, to his mother, “And I’m like, a twelve-year-old kid sitting on the bannister, what are you asking me for?”
Because the L was involved in the event in some or other capacity (Facebook friend?), our magazine lounged suggestively throughout the, um, lounge. Like here. It’s our Food and Drink Issue, with some food, and a drink.
Then we just sat, and stared at our magazine. In this, it was much like work. The end.