Columbia Dance Majors

This weekend I drove six hours for French toast. It really is that good. After driving another six hours back, my friend asked if I wanted to make an appearance with him at this gathering. I said sure, as I am always up for meeting new people who I can fail to talk to, and we showed up. It was of course pouring rain in New York, and I hadn’t shaved in a good week or so. So upon our arrival, I have a pretty strong appearance of being a hobo.

It turned out that the “gathering” in question was less a party than a get-together for a group of Columbia dance majors who were premiering a dance video many of them had made together. And, of course, I knew no one. Being me, I used this opportunity to talk to no one and just sort of hang around creepily. That is, until I left and blew up a lamp, covering the room in shards of glass.

Here’s what happened. I went to put on my jacket, and I was standing next to this lamp. It was the sort where there is a bare bulb on top, and a cheap plastic bowl shaped thing underneath, usually attached with a locking nut of some sort. However, this particular lamp had nothing attaching it at all, and as my newly coated arm came down, I hit the rim, and it tried to come flying off. Trouble was, the bulb was considerably larger than the hole in the bottom, and the whole thing shattered and flew all over the room and all the gathered dance majors.

Point being, I am pretty sure I am now known amongst the Columbia dance set as “the creepy hobo who breaks your house.” A typical Saturday night all around.

-TC