Last night I was awakened from a deep sleep by the overlapping sounds of a car alarm and extremely loud dance/techno music outside. The family across the street includes a high school boy, and sometimes when his friends drop him off they briefly raise hell in various harmless ways out front. The clock said 1:35 and I thought that was a little late for this kid to get home on a weeknight during school so I got up and peeked through the blinds.
A silver car had pulled up in front of the neighbor kid’s little red Toyota, and the visiting car had all the doors open and the music blasting. Outside the car was a teenage girl in her underwear dancing like a lunatic to the music. The car alarm was going off because the girl was beating on the hood of the kid’s Toyota as part of her meth-fueled Flashdance re-enactment. One or two other kids stayed in the silver car while she continued dancing. At first I thought this was a dare of some kind — “hey, we’ll drive up to Joey’s house and you have to get out of the car in your underwear and dance” — but this went on for several minutes.
I’m not sure what this means, but I decided I’d rather sleep than watch an underwear-clad high school girl dance in her underwear in the street outside my house. I climbed back in bed before the dancing and the music finished.