The Exodus from Pandemic on the First Day of Summer

It was my first time walking into Club Space since pandemic obliterated our very spoiled social lives. I was fresh, having had a Red Bull in hand. It was time to reintroduce myself.

It felt strange and off-kilter, walking in at 8pm on a Sunday, with it not being music week or Art Basel. The greet was the same. ID check. List check. Bag check. Ticket check – and away I went.

There were not a lot of people, but enough to fill out the dance floor. Satori was to play that night. And as to be expected, the first thing I did was take a lap.

The decor is different. Sofas litter the venue, and the Gardens of Babylon hang from the ceiling. It didn’t take me long to notice that all the stages for dancing had been demolished and reconstructed. That long center stage where sexy ladies have danced for a millennia it feels like has been split into two smaller dance platforms. 

This is not the same club I first entered. Nor will it be the same club as it is today, years from now. The most obvious sign of change is that men are allowed to dance on the stages with the women. This must have something to do with equal rights liberation he/me/she/whatever. My comment is that women should have a safe place to dance, and that has always been the stage, keeping the men who do not understand, “No,” away. If I have anything to say about it, separation should still be encouraged.

I’m a fan of etiquette. Bring on change, sure, but some things are in place for tactful reasons.I did enjoy dancing next to this one guy, C. He had a big fan that claps when you flick it closed. We were both wearing sunglasses at night. Perhaps a sign of like-meets-like. But that kind of interaction can be left on the floor. The stage at Space is meant for ladies. So step down guys and let women shine in the limelight. And ladies, if you want to dance with your male genus friends, step down and do it on the floor. You are being quite selfish to those needing safe-haven.

The thing about being there solo, is that I really get to tune in (or tune out) without the noise of other people drowning out my thoughts or my observations. I also get to (or am forced to) meet so many more people as a lone rider.

Let’s talk about the huge role fate has to play, daily in our lives, although we tend to acknowledge Acts of God more-so in our nights out. So I saw my ex-fiancé for the first time since parting ways. And fate would have it that I’m getting a welcomed lap dance from a strange, sexy Brazilian as he’s walking by.

No matter. The irony is that in the year I spent with long-time Space resident DJ Ivano Bellini, we never once went to Space as a couple. To recap, Ivano and I got reconnected through this blog when I interviewed him in 2019. Gnarly to think at 21 yr old I’m dancing my ass off at Space’s 10th anniversary to his set, only to be engaged to him on Space’s 20th. It was a simple match of DJ meets fan and vice versa. It was part-fantasy, at least for as much as my part is to play. And it worked until it didn’t. 

I pondered whether I should say hi. I knew I would have to be the one to approach, post lap-dance. So on my exit out, I said my hello, and it was a kind exchange. Short, sweet. Life keeps going. So we go from the year 2010 to the year 2021, and he’s now my ex-fiancé. And in some ways, I’m still that 18 year old girl discovering Space for the first time. And then I look around and see not only has this place changed, but so have I.

I’m not embarrassed of who I am. I don’t hide behind house music. I acknowledge my proclivity towards love and fantasy (throwback to Serge Devant’s Addicted to Love) and I see how beautiful it is to grow within an environment that has also evolved, while also sticking true to its guns, where ends meet. (I.e. house music self-abandoning, where we can just erase 2015-2017)

Point being, many of us self-abandon, but thankfully I’m one of the ones who has made it back, Alchemist-style. And I look at the 18 year old girls on the stage Sunday night, stammering that at one point in time, that was me, with my girlfriends – and my whole world ahead of me (and my miami music?)

Well, life sure gets weird. From then until now, it’s been a ball. A crawl. Slightly terrifying. Slightly knowing I’ve had some top experiences that most will not.

I’m just thankful to still be doing this, health intact, meeting some of the kindest strangers you may ever come across. The vibrational energy was high Sunday night. 

Kimonos did a very good job building their set with the crowd. The music hit like a heatwave. And the people that intrigued me the most, were mainly recent transplants. Fresh locals, bringing their energy from wherever. And multiple times when I asked, “Why is it you moved here?” The answer came back unanimous – the energy of Miami.

Am I part of this? I can’t help to think that I am. That my life, however big or small, has played a part in this momentum. You know the number of people “doing this” longer than I have? I get why. It’s a home away from home. A home where you are accepted, where you earn respect, and most importantly, where you are encouraged to love and express yourself. No judgments given. And if they are, they’re for fun and jokes. Who wouldn’t want to call a place like that home?

I noticed the newness of Miami that’s going to abound in this new era. I’m thankful for the transplants. I’m thankful for the youth. We needed some fresh blood. Looking forward to the next chapter that’s to be written.