Dance dance at Barsonic

Last Friday I decided that I shouldn't get put down by food poisoning -because of which I threw up my stomach contents out of two orifices- and we headed to Barsonic for some indie/electronic music.

Barsonic, in my opinion, is slightly worse than Loft, where the whole TAG thingy used to be. The dance floor is smaller now, and less fun to dance on not only because it's basically a narrow pathway between the bar and the DJ console, it also leads to the loo and the couch area - so you're cramped between people ordering their drinks behind you and people who need to pee rushing to and fro to relieve themselves at the other end of the room.

Apropos people, I have divided the crowd at Barsonic into these groups: (this can be also applied to other clubs)

1) Normal people like you and me, who happen to be in the minority nowadays.

2) Those who were born without any sense of rhythm, or just flat out refuse to acknowledge any, thus called 'Dancing Maniacs'. They basically enjoy jumping around and flailing their arms à la the aerobic dancer. Bare in mind that they're not in the gym. They're in a small, crowded place, where you're supposed to be dancing with other people, not knocking them down with crazy punches.

3) The 'Clothes' people - do I need to say more? These people either pay too much attention to their outfits or none at all. Bright skinnies, metallic leggings, wild print shirt, boyfriend's shirt? They probably look at thecobrasnake every 5 minutes, which the Vogue for the scenesters. Or those guys with winter jackets and hoodies in a hot, sweaty club? Really, I didn't know the theme of the night was Antarctic.

4) Then there are idiots who insist on smoking and dancing wildly at the same time. Look, a cigarette is a frigging weapon. You can BURN someone with that stick. Which was what happened to me on Friday by the way. Some bitch girl punctured my skin because she was drunk and trying to show her pals her groovy (not!) moves, possibly forgetting or not caring about the burning object between her fingers. She apologized, I accepted, just because I wasn't in the mood to scream at her face, but a second later I turned back, and - she was still waving her hands all over the place. Didn't you learn your lesson?!

5) Okay these people just irk me a lot. You're on the dance floor, enjoying the beats, the songs, you just want to dance, but you can't because some idiots keep cutting you off by walking between their two groups of friends to take pictures. Yes, that was what this guy was doing. Snap some pics, stand around, stare, walk for 2 meters, stop, take pictures, stare. Rinse and repeat. Look, it's a dance floor, not a photo booth.

Still, it was a good night. Just 2 jugs of v-redbull to keep me awake, danced a bit, people-watched a lot, and then headed off for some dim sum.

I am so addicted to dim sum.