Dance Off

The tension was palpable that late morning. Some who were there might have even said you could have cut it with a dull knife.

The two groups, one made up of the ‘woke’ crowd, the other ‘unwoke.’ Because what else could one call them?

Fascists? Nazis? MAGA Republicans?

They shouted names, pejoratives, slurs, and insults at one another. Yet they remained on opposite sides of the street, separated by a thin strip of faded asphalt.

It was but a prelude.

What was the sudden call to action? Nothing, or maybe it was everything, as the two groups broke the invisible barrier and rushed violently at each other.

Chaos ensued as they slammed into each other, a mosh pit of angry, gyrating, over-wrought individuals seeking dominance. The screaming and the hateful undertones disappeared as they enjoyed the vibration of the heavy metal guitar and the deep-throated base of the lead singer’s voice.

Drivers had to find alternate routes through Virginia City as the dancers refused to yield C Street to them.