Fieldnotes 2

In the seventh installment of Goosebumps, the crowd pretty much consisted of regulars--about half of the people I asked told me that they have been to every Goosebumps since it started in September.

Lot 401 is a fantastic venue--there was a large, open dance floor in front of the bar, and behind the bar, through a window, you could see the DJ booth. The place itself was clean and crisp--wooden floors, white couch benches that lined the perimeter, and white walls that changed color with the spotlights. There was a huge disco ball in the middle, and the different spotlights caused the dance floor to change color every couple of seconds. At around 11pm, the place was practically empty. The DJs weren't even in the booth--they were socializing with the 10 or so people standing around the bar. Before 11pm, guests can come in for free if they e-mailed their names to gimmegoosebumps@gmail.com, and people under 21 are welcome. After 11pm, there is a $5 charge, and it is 21+, which is why at 11pm, Lot 401 only had about 20 people in it, standing around awkwardly, not knowing whether or not to dance.

Then, one man, a lanky black gay guy in skinny jeans, a vest, and those trademark hipster grandpa glasses, grabs his 40 and starts dancing by himself. In a matter of seconds, 3 girls, all blonde and about 90 lbs. each start dancing around him, twirling in their vintage looking dresses with keffia scarves and cowboy boots. By 11.30, the Lot was about half full, with pretty much all Brown and RISD students. I recognized many students from my African dance class, and noticed that almost everyone showed up to the party in their cars or in their friends' cars--there isn't really a taxi culture like Fish Co. The people at the party were mostly the kinds of kids who can afford to have cars at Brown. They were also almost all upperclassmen (about 80% of the people I asked were juniors or seniors) and pretty much 75% white. It was about evenly split gender wise, but I recognized almost all of the men at Goosebumps to be active in the queer community at Brown.

The music was fantastic--loud, thumping, bass with dance beats and clapping rhythms. By midnight, the dance floor was PACKED. It was almost impossible to walk anywhere. The lines to the bathroom wrapped around twice, and the bathrooms themselves were flooded and getting gross. The dance floor was quite a scene--everyone making out with everyone else, people in outrageous outfits, including zebra-print leotards and pink or blue wigs, and tons of sweaty dancing. (The best kind.)

I decided to ask around, see where people were from, to get an idea of how many people were locals. Every single person I asked was either a Brown or RISD student, except for one man who looked around 30, who had a British accent and said he was only there because he was friends with the DJ. Everyone seemed to be really familiar with Goosebumps and the entire Goosebumps culture--I felt as if the crowd basically knew each other. When I asked people questions, they would wonder what I was doing there with a notebook, and then I would explain that I am writing about Goosebumps--eventually, we would start talking about the music, and I would ask them about the DJ. About 90% of everyone I spoke to would say, "Oh, Micah? Yeah, he's great!" as if they were friends forever.

Even out in the parking lot, there were kids who were the regular cigarette break kind of crowd, laughing and dancing outside where the music was barely audible, and then running back inside to get in the middle of the dance floor.

Goosebumps has definitely been able to create its own individual, personal, private atmosphere--one that from an outsider's perspective seems intimidating. However, I honestly think that if you go to more than one installment of Goosebumps, you'll already have friends from the last time, and it's easier than one would think to make friends or become a "regular." I honestly thought that I would feel like an outsider the whole time--as an ethnic woman, as someone who doesn't dress like a hipster, as someone from a lower socioeconomic class, etc--but I guess having a reason to talk to people (this post!) made it that much easier. The people at Goosebumps were like people in the real world--which was a surprise--aloof, yet craving interaction and welcoming to new people. All in all, I would say that it was a great change from the Wednesday night Fish Co. crowd and regular Brown frat parties.

[Photos coming soon!]