Marcel Winatschek

The Whole Crew

Nearly three in the morning and I’m wired from P.M. for the first time. Julian, Danny B., Mille, Ana, Knuffi—all there. The place is bigger than Nachtcafe, more going on, actual food. That alone makes it worth the trip back. Five euros for a Smirnoff though, which is insane, but the space, the room to move around, made up for it.

At some point we got into freestyle dancing. I remember the moment it clicked—two right, two left, two back, one forward, one back and spin—the steps locked and then it was over. The second you understand the pattern is when it ends.

What got to me was who didn’t show. Someone had said the whole crew was coming. Like it was locked in. But that didn’t happen. I’m not going to sit with it. Everyone picks their own thing. I’m exhausted. Need to sleep.