Outside, the music, the moon, the general kiss-my-ass sensibility inspiring a series of Teenage Wasteland skirmishes. Bouncers holding down malcontents with chokeholds, the Jets and Sharks girlfriends screaming: "Pobrecito, he didn't do anything.... What the fuck you looking at, man?" Interesting action, ringside commentary provided by two kids in matching hooded sweat suits/thug attire ("Nah, we're not gang bangers; this is just the way people dress in New York"), hanging tough: "These whites jumped this Spanish guy, you know, a prejudice thing. The cops got the wrong man. The rules are different down here, but I guess you have to break the rules sometimes."
Back to the Beach and ordinary aesthetic lawlessness. Mr. Sleaze, Victor Posner, dancing with his very young consort at Stars. Louis Canales hosting a small reception at his new club, Byblos, in the old Boomerang/Cave space. Les Bains doing a warm-up party shortly before the grand opening with Thierry Mugler. A collaboration between Charles Schreiner of The Strand and Hubert Boukobza and Philippe Fatien of Paris, and a truly beautiful airy space: white and black tile, light bouncing off cut-glass chandeliers, Moroccan-style candelabras. Boukobza, escorting the very stylish model Kristen McMenamy, taking the international long view: "Paris and Miami are very different. We like the beautiful people who might spend a thousand dollars at the bar, and the trendy people who need to have drinks bought for them. Everybody comes to clubs here: black, white, gay, straight. We want the right-way crowd. Not chic, necessarily. Chic is in your mind.