Fog's on Blast. Literally.

When the fog just won't stop rolling in.

Let’s talk about fog. The seemingly elusive yet omnipresent substance that’s pervasive at about half the parties I go to according to my fuzzy math. Fog creates an ambiance of mystique and intrigue. I get it, it can be fab. But it can also get in the way. For instance, you can kinda see the cutie next to you on the dance floor, but in reality you can’t. The blurry shapes and movements seem on point, so you make a move and success ensues. But warning: fog is the perfect pairing for beer/mushroom/ketamine/[insert substance here] goggles that can result in you feeling that you might have gotten catfished by said cutie the next morning, but you didn’t. You were just in a murky swamp and couldn’t see the catch of the night.

I know my opinion may not be the popular one. And I can definitely see (get it?) the very valid reasons for fog. In addition to the ambiance, it gives comfort to those who feel exposed and vulnerable on the dance floor. In this day and age of social media overexposure a veil can be the enveloping embrace we all need at times. And the drama it adds to the lights or through a cracked warehouse window at the break of dawn can compare with the most glorious sunrise. It can also hide a lot of poorly designed spaces.

Let me make it clear, in these scenarios I have no issue with fog. But I’d like to understand the purpose of a room full of fog so thick you could cut it with a knife. Too often I swiftly walk into a party just to be stopped in my tracks because I can’t see 6” in front of me. It happened recently. I couldn’t find the bar, the dance floor, or figure out the shape of the room, nada. And no, I wasn’t super high, by myself and being an idiot. That murky morning mist had everyone scrambled. I tentatively tiptoed through the party, one hand waving in front of me like a Doppler Radar and the other clutching my friend’s hand so I wouldn’t walk into a wall.

Dense fog settles in like the curmudgeon cloud it is. You stand there aggravated and pointlessly scanning the room for your friends. And all that stares back is the murky mess of nothingness. It certainly doesn't make for a safe dancing space. Especially when your arms and legs have reach and you aren’t doing the snoozy shuffle. I’ve come inches from wapping someone in the face as they innocently fumble their way through the smog. Bewildered and stunned eyes  approach you and quickly shift to the side to avoid calamity. And funnily enough everyone is still facing the DJ even though they can’t see them.

If folks want to shut everyone and everything out of their dance floor experience that’s fine. To each their own. But you can pretty much get the same experience by just closing your eyes or putting on some shades. Or both. Both my and others’ curiosity, peaked eyes shouldn’t be hindered. That level of fog is also puzzling when there’s a fierce door involved. I have to say it’s quite cunt actually. Forewarning your non-refundable ticket holders that they won’t get in if they don’t look the part, only for them to make an entrance and not only not get seen, but to seemingly vanish into thick air. All those wasted lewks are only seen on Instagram stories the next fleeting day.

So if you see me at a party through the foggy mist and something seems amiss, you’ll know why.

P.S. Floor fog is underutilized