Every Friday night in Broadview, the dorm where I lived for the last two years of college, was DDR night. The Dance Dance Revolution crowd were the people who didn't especially feel like going out on Friday nights, and they were the real Broadviewians, the ones who made the rest of the UChicago student body seem like state-school, body shot-drinking ruffians. (I once got back from student bar Jimmy's and stopped by to see how the DDR was going, and one of the DDR regulars informed me, "You smell like party.") For the uninitiated, this is DDR: there's this photo of youthful DDR-ers, along with this one, of honest-to-goodness U of C DDR players, from the Chicago Maroon. I'm used to being surrounded by a certain amount of dorkiness, and to feeling relatively undorky, so returning to the land of models and socialites has been something of a shock.