There was a long line to get into L5 for its last hours on New Year's Eve. Two cops stood by and made sure no one got too rambunctious.
One guy was yelling on his cell phone, "What do you mean you can't get me in?! You have to get me in! You goddamn better well get me in!"
Someone made fun of him, holding an air phone and saying, "I know people, dammit. I'm important and I know people!"
I was with a group of 15 that suddenly became 20, and we got in through the side, bypassing the line, because we did know someone.
About ten other people tried to slide into our line, but they didn't get in.
"It's almost midnight! Let us in!"
"Eight minutes, eight minutes," the DJ announced as I went in. This was the most people I'd ever seen in L5. The music was hip-hop from Club Deviate. I made my way to the bar and ordered two White Russians.
"This isn't the kind of groove that usually plays here," I heard someone tell a friend.
"I'm rolling so hard," said a girl with a top hat to a girl in a sequin dress, using the term for the onset of an ecstasy high. "Touch me, touch me now or I'm going to die!"