Charleston was tired, hungover, and not in the mood for silliness on Sunday night — the huge lines, ever-smaller costumes, and general air of hedonism had evaporated along with the alcohol splashed onto countless bodies in countless bars. Those same bars on Upper King that had been packed to capacity a night before were closed or empty, with only a few intrepid revelers braving the Southern cold outside at Dudley’s.
So it was appropriately spooky to walk those silent streets and come upon the Music Farm, where colored lights and remixed funk from their Nightmare on Ann Street party came sneaking out the windows to haunt the dead sidewalks. Once inside, however, it was clear that the crowd wasn’t quite as ready to party as the DJs were — at least not at first. The partygoers were heavily weighted toward the under-21ers, judging by the lack of interest in the bar and the number of tables that, though heavily occupied, had nary a drink in sight. And Charleston, as we all know, just doesn’t do straight-edge.
But as the clock inched towards 11, the place started to fill up and feel more like a party. DJs R Dot and Rocky Horror, who’d been spinning awesome old school tunes all night and doing their best to entice people out on the dance floor, got some rewards for their hard work as groups of sexy fill-in-the-blanks and guys wearing cardboard in various configurations began to get their groove on and take over the floor. And that’s a hard thing to do: while the Music Farm’s space is a good size for most concerts, it’s pretty overwhelming for dancing.
All in all, the event was a nice way to close out Halloween weekend and an education in one of the cardinal rules of party planning: keep your space just a bit too small for the number of people expected. Because if Nightmare on Ann had been in a less cavernous, more intimate venue, that party would have been crazy.