This is a serious city, and the people in it are serious. Serious about their work. Serious about their apartments. Serious about getting to the train. People walk with purpose here, and anyone left lollygagging through midtown is either mowed down or evangelized. I knew all of this prior to moving here, but even so, nothing prepared me for the seriousness that is 80s dance night. I thought I had been prepping my entire life for an event like this, but even I (a girl who spent her formative years rehearsing choreography to Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl”) was a mere amateur compared to the superfreaks who gathered in the east village that night. When my friends Holly, Mallory and I arrived at the Pyramid club, the place was only half full. Most were grouped up front at the bar, and although a drink or two was of necessity (so we thought) to make our dancing debut, the smoke machines and compelling sounds of Human League drew us quickly toward the b...