A girl behind me began the show by shouting "I love you, Jian!" the moment the band hit the stage. She was bouncing about wildly, telling everyone to sing along and having a good time. Her friend was also having fun, but not keeping up. Their two boyfriends were moving only because they'd start holding hands just as their girlfriends started flailing their arms about. These four were right behind me.

The fifth person moving about was, well, me, in the front row. Having been at the Toasters show the night before, having skanked up a storm and numbed my shins to any more compression pain, I was having a blast. My suspenders were up, man. I was at the front of a small line of five spastic people leading back from the center of the stage.

The most active of the girls grabbed onto me at once point and said, breathily, "I'm so glad to find other people who really enjoy this bad. Not enough people really get into it." This happened right after she asked around her to sing her friend's name instead of singing "Roger" during one of the upcoming songs. She said she'd be looking for me at other shows in case her other dancing partners didn't show up.