I would do this like every lunch hour if I needed to work.

No offense but literally, I feel like I should just go anyway. All the men who show up are probably employed, right? 

micropolisnyc:

How fun is this: In the middle of their workday, office employees in Midtown Manhattan have started trekking to lunch-hour dance parties held at nightclubs. 

These include Laurie Batista, 31, an executive assistant at an advertising agency…

… she was wearing purple lensless Wayfarer-style glasses, waving a footlong foam glow stick and mouthing the words to Warren G’s “Regulate.”

Around her, hundreds of other revelers did similar things: a guy in Chuck Taylors moonwalked across the dance floor, a man in a hoodie threw up his hands to form the “W” that stands for the rap group Wu-Tang Clan. Strobe lights bounced off a giant disco ball. Sweat glistened on foreheads. “Gin and Juice” thumped. Cheers erupted. It was midday, but inside Marquee, it could have been 2 a.m. [NYT]

Sounds far less pathetic than eating over my keyboard.

The DJ’s at these affairs include Questlove of The Roots, and aside from the all the twenty- and thirty-something attendees are some retirees.

“I just happened to be walking by and a young lady gave me a flier and I said, ‘O.K., I have nothing else to do for lunch,’ ” said Dorothy Vazquez, a 68-year-old resident of Brownsville, Brooklyn, who happened on the latest Lunch Beat. Ms. Vazquez said she normally dances at her local seniors center. She smiled, surveying the people filing into the club. “I’m looking forward to boogieing,” she said.

Photo by Benjamin Norman for the New York Times