[photo blog]
Hanging out with the mohster and foo, it came down to a single game of the parapara. The moh preparing for the grind with two tokens from fortune's own hand, a twinkle in his eye and the faintest of smirks on his lips. He throws a couple of snaps with his fingers (for luck) to get into the groove of the beat, paws the ground impatiently during the intro, and launches into dance hall immortality.





By the second song a sizable crowd has gathered around the virtuoso. A group of American tweens have planted themselves on an adjoining machine, while a couple of female Goths stare, spellbound. The Man is himself to oblivious to all but the gyrating figure on the screen, and the syncophantic gyrations of his own well-toned body.



He performs the final encore piece (Love YOu 4Ever), and dances his heart out, dedicating his art to his muse and lost love. By this time the crowd has hit 20, with a few arcade attendants (and cashier) standing stockstill, all swept up in his sheer animal charisma. And all at once the song has ended, and there is a moment of perfectly poised silence.

And then there is applause. Sweet raucous applause.

~~~*~~~


The mohster in one of his more characteristic closeups. He's the dude on the left.