
That "impromptu" dance party? On the parking lot that used to be Cha Cha/Manray/Kincora? All anyone knew—text messages, word of mouth—was to get there at 11:55 sharp, because it was sure to be shut down by cops within 20 or 30 minutes, and sure enough the cops showed up, shining all kinds of light onto the crowd, but the crowd just waved and shouted and danced harder. The kicked up dust: New Depression-era fog machine. The cops standing outside of their vehicles, their blues and reds flashing: government-provided scenery. The music: Rihanna's "Please Don't Stop the Music," Destiny's Child's "No, No, No," Dolly Parton's "9 to 5"... Which was fine, but seriously: why weren't they playing all Michael Jackson? ("Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" started things off, according to commenters—I didn't make it early enough for that). Made my way to the DJ—hats off to the DJ for sticking his neck out like that and for getting all his gear set up out there—to request some Michael Jackson, and the DJ replied, "No, sorry, this is the last song." And then the cops were upon us.
Photo by Layne Shepherd ("I live across the street and had to check it out"). This post has been updated since it was first published.
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