Good Gawd. What excess. At ten-forty p.m., a line wrapping around the block, getting longer and longer by the minute. By eleven p.m., the line is all the way over to Fifth Avenue (and in case you don't know, Fifth to Sixth is one of the longer Manhattan blocks). Fortunately, it's not raining. What it is is a test of fortitude and patience -- how badly do I want to hear Vic tonight? How important is it to see the inside of the newly-remodeled Limelight? How many points do I win for getting to say that I was there, on opening night?

Midnight. We're in. Or at least into the vestibule which has a translucent floor shining bright white. Then the entry lobby which looks like an airline counter. Up, up and away.

But not yet. First a long climb up a narrow stairwell -- to coat check. Pay attention to the EXIT signs; these could be important, in the event of catastrophe.

And then, down a set of mirrored/polished/slippery stairs (or is it my new pony boots?), and then up another flight, and at last, there we are, above the throbbing mass of shirtless men and babes and there's Victor in his spaceship overlooking the entire scene.

The dance floor is still longer than wide, and the balcony/mezzanine is still a perfect vantage point. And now there's a lounge above Victor's booth, which gives a view much like the one at the prow of a ship (think Leo and Kate in Titanic).

Victor was on. Having fun with a bin of albums labelled DOPE BEATS and DOPE TRIBAL. Greeting his subjects. Danny T. came by, big hugs. Escape was smiling, loving what Victor was doing. Women with large breasts were dancing, hoping for Victor's peripheral vision.

Everything was packed, body to body, shoulder to shoulder. But everyone also seemed happy, and not blotto. Sunday night not Saturday.

The stage was too crowded, but we forced ourselves onto the floor. For a while. Then back to the balcony. Easier to dance along the railing. Back and forth, back and forth.

Victor was playing stuff that made me move. A long set for nearly an hour. Then bladder time. Which wasn't nearly the zoo I expected. Nice sightlines, all around......

Then back to the floor. Safe From Harm. Nice to hear, yet again, but also maybe a sign to move on.

It's nearly four a.m. anyway. Coat check hysteria. Mess, mess, mess.

But bless this town, there are cabs waiting to wing us home.

Loved it that we did it. And loved knowing that next Sunday it'll be Victor at Crobar. Bring on the sun.