Flash mob professionals tape their shoes

27 April 2014


The elevator doors close as I'm headed up to my office on a Monday morning.  I look down and see a piece of tape on the bottom of my shoe.

I nonchalantly lean down to peel it off, letting a clear smirk slide all the way across my face.  I put my foot back down and keep my eyes lowered on all the briefcases and freshly shined shoes.  All these folks ready for their work day.  But I keep my grin because I feel so sneaky.  

I remember a scene from one of my favorite movies - Step Up 2, which I just watched with my buddy David a few weekends ago.  Though, instead of treating it as my normal dance-a-long film, I had to remain completely immobile, rubbing Icy Hot all over my achy running legs for the entire duration of the film.  My bro, Devin, bought that movie for me many years ago, and he basically walked straight up to me and shoved it in my mouth so he could plug the hole that talked about it so much.  I still take it as one of his sweetest gestures.

Anyway, the movie begins with a flash mob on a subway train by the best dance crew in town, all disguised in masks.  And the scene ends with a business man chasing these kids off the subway and  then riding up the elevator, tapping his fingers to the fading beat.  Then the camera pans in, showing a streak of paint on his hand.  Then the camera pans out to the wall beneath him, revealing a freshly painted graffiti image of the crew's name.  Turns out Mr. Business was a piece of the guise.

So now I have MY turn.  Peeling tape of the bottom of my foot.  All sourced from the night before.  My girlfriend, Kristin's, golden 26 birthday party.  Some other girl threw the party for her so she decided it needed a flash mob.  Talk about a GOLDEN idea!  Harhar.

She reached out to a small group of us, and we formed our own "crew," uniting for some Saturday morning garage practice.  But at the last minute, the party location was switched to someone else's home and carpet became the dance floor.  Now our gliding became more... glitchy.

UNTIL we came up with the idea of TAPING THE BOTTOMS OF OUR SHOES!  Good thing this practice was so late at night because sleepy minds sometimes give the best solutions.

So the party came.  The setting was astonishing.  The crowd was hot.  The tape went on.  And we delivered a jaw-dropping show.

And then of course, because I am me, I wore bits of the same outfit to work the next day, and apparently... missed a piece of tape.  But I'm glad I did because I now know the satisfaction of being my own little guise.

And then the elevator doors opened and I scissor-kicked some guy's briefcase into the air, jumped out, and turned around to face him with my karate hands as the elevator doors closed.

Upward and onward,







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